The next day, Nightfall smelled like wet dirt and impatience.
Snowmelt ran in thin streams along the paths. The training ring was a battlefield of mud. Wolves grumbled about damp socks and slippery logs. Mara threatened to ban anyone from her kitchen who tracked in one more footprint.
Aria moved through it all with Lena’s voice in her head.
Not forever. Next.
She caught herself running small tests in her own mind as she worked.
Did she want Rowan’s opinion while she read Kellan’s notes again? Yes.
Did she want his presence during patrol? Sometimes yes, sometimes no — and that was interesting.
Did she want him at the fence if another letter came? Definitely.
The answers didn’t feel like promises. Just data points.
By late afternoon, the air had gone heavy in that way that promised
