The smell hit her before the voice did.
Aria was halfway across the yard, arms full of firewood, when a gust of wind brought her a sharp tang she hadn’t expected to ever meet on Nightfall soil.
Silvercrest.
Not much. Faded by distance and cold. But distinct enough that her wolf stiffened under her skin.
She dumped the wood in the stack and turned.
A single figure stood near the main gate, talking to Rowan. Not in the formal posture of alphas on ceremony, but not casual either. Neutral. Careful.
Even from this far Aria recognised the set of his shoulders.
Aiden’s beta. Micah.
Her grip on the next log slipped. It thudded to the ground, jarring her wrists.
“Hey,” Lena said from the other side of the pile, eyebrows lifting. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Aria lied automatically.
Lena sniffed t
