Silver did not remember leaving the room.
One moment, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, lungs still struggling to find rhythm after Drogo’s voice slipped away. The next, she was moving through corridors she had barely memorized, guided less by thought and more by instinct.
Her body knew where to go.
Arthur.
The word alone quieted something restless beneath her ribs.
The halls of his home were alive with low movement. Wolves passing. Voices murmuring. The subtle pulse of pack life flowing around her like a river she stood inside but did not fully belong to yet.
His scent reached her before she saw him. Pine, iron, something warm and grounded beneath it all.
He was outside.
She stepped through the open archway into fading evening light.
Arthur stood near the outer clearing, sp
