The council broke for food that no one tasted. Banners drooped in a wind that didn't care. Rogues drifted to the creek edge in loose knots; pack alphas huddled under trees, counting concessions like coins.
Laurel stood by a birch and wiped creek water from her fingers. Rhea stayed close, eyes on the bowl. Hal did invisible arithmetic with his lips.
Anderson crossed the grass as if it were a floor in his own house. Two sentries moved to block. Laurel flicked two fingers: let him. They melted back, still watching.
He stopped two paces away. “Laurel."
“Alpha."
“We need to speak."
“We are," she said. “Be fast. The food will go cold and Hal will call that a crime."
Hal didn't look up. “Punishable by bread lecture," he murmured.
Anderson let the aside pass. His throat worked; that proud
