“Good,” he murmured. “Because Blackfang does not shelter victims.”
He rose and turned away. “Rest. Tomorrow, we begin preparing the contract bond. And Elira—”
He paused at the doorway.
“If Kael comes looking for you,” he said quietly, “I won’t stop him from trying.”
The doors closed behind him, leaving me alone in the echoing chamber, Papa’s stabilized soul-vessel warm against my heart.
For the first time since the Moon turned away, I did not feel lost.
I felt claimed.
The first night in Blackfang territory passed without dreams.
That alone told me how far I had fallen.
In Silvermoon, my sleep had always been filled with the echo of pack-heartbeats — the layered breathing of hundreds of wolves bound by Moon law and bloodline magic. Even in my chambers, I’d felt their presence like a second pulse beneath my own skin.
In Blackfang, there was only silence.
Not empty silence.
Watchful silence.