The evening before the ceremony, the twelve wolves at the boundary had not moved.
Not entered. Not retreated. They remained exactly where Bren had first marked them, the specific patience of people who had been waiting for something a very long time and had learned, somewhere along the way, not to rush the waiting once the end of it was finally in sight.
Caden had warriors stationed at every entry point. Rowan managed the perimeter communication from a desk that had not been cleared of maps and reports in two days. The packhouse had settled into the particular locked-down quiet it took on when Caden decided something significant was happening and nothing, under any circumstances, was going to interrupt it.
I found him in the study. The fire built up against the evening chill. Just the t
