The prison holding Thackeray sat two hours' ride from the manor, a fortified facility maintained jointly by the allied packs following his conviction, and Kane rode the distance in a silence so absolute that Wren didn't dare attempt conversation, understanding instinctively that whatever storm was building within him needed room to simply exist rather than be prematurely soothed.
They arrived to find the warden already anxious, alerted by messenger that something concerning had occurred, and Wren watched Kane's control fray further with every step deeper into the facility's cold, stone corridors.
"He hasn't left his cell," the warden reported, hurrying to keep pace with Kane's furious stride. "I don't understand how he could have possibly—"
"I don't need explanations," Kane said, voice
