Elena
*****Late Afternoon — The High Terrace, Inner Keep*****
I had learned the rhythm of this place a long time ago.
The way footsteps echoed differently in the halls depending on who was walking. The way the guards laughed louder when they thought I wasn’t listening.
The way Silverfang breathed now, steady, alive, stubbornly hopeful.
Below the terrace, the celebration was already loud.
Too loud.
I leaned my elbows on the stone railing and watched it all without smiling yet. Music clashed with laughter. Wolves howled without rhythm or dignity. Someone knocked over a table and got cheered for it.
Behind me, Chase sighed.
“They’re going to break something important,” he said calmly.
I didn’t turn. “They already did. Twice.”
“Three times,” he corrected. “Finn exists.”
That finall
