Silver chose the moment carefully.
Arthur was in the lower courtyard at dawn, checking readiness before the day fully broke. The air was crisp, wolves moving with quiet purpose, the kind of disciplined calm that followed long tension. He looked like he belonged here again. Not looming. Not retreating. Present.
She watched him for a heartbeat longer than necessary, steadying herself.
Then she stepped forward.
“Arthur.”
He turned immediately. Not like an Alpha responding to a call, but like a man who had been waiting to hear his name spoken by the right voice.
“Yes?”
Silver took a breath. “I want to go with you.”
The words landed between them, fragile and deliberate.
Arthur didn’t speak at first. His eyes searched her face, not for weakness, not for manipulation, but for certainty.
