(Zulan’s POV)
Zulan didn’t return to the council chamber.
He moved straight to his private sitting room, the door closing behind him with a quiet, final click as he crossed the space without slowing. His expression remained controlled, composed—but the moment he was alone, the tension beneath it surfaced.
Kat. Kael. Jaret. My sitting room. Now. The mindlink carried clean and sharp, leaving no room for delay or interpretation.
Silence followed, no reply.
Inside his head, his wolf paced. Restless. Focused. Her, it said again, the word pressing against his awareness with a persistence that bordered on distraction.
Zulan exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he moved toward the side table. He reached for a glass without looking, pouring a measure of whiskey with practiced ea
