The packhouse felt quieter than it had in weeks. The tension of training, the energy of the battles, the constant readiness for threats. All of that had faded for the evening, leaving only the warm hum of home. I could finally breathe.
The sun had set hours ago, leaving the clearing outside wrapped in silver moonlight that spilled through the tall windows of the main hall. The fire in the fireplace crackled softly, sending small sparks swirling up into the chimney. The warmth from it seeped into the room, blending with the faint scent of pine and herbs.
I stretched out on one of the couches, feeling the soreness in my muscles from the day’s training. Asher was beside me, leaning against the armrest while I was leaning back on him, his eyes half-closed but alert. Even in rest, he radiated
