Night didn’t end abruptly for the Blackthorne Pack.
It thinned.
The stars dulled into faint glimmers.
The darkness softened into gray.
And the Alpha floor slowly roused like a living thing stretching after too little rest.
Caleb was awake before the first bell.
Habit. Responsibility. Instinct.
He stood at the balcony in a loose shirt and trousers, arms folded, gaze fixed east where the treeline hid things that did not yet have names. His jaw worked, tension living there like it had built a nest.
He heard her behind him before she spoke.
Soft footsteps.
A quiet breath.
No hesitation.
“Did you come to bed at all?” Lila’s voice was low, wrapped in sleep but clear.
He turned.
She stood barefoot in the doorway to the balcony, wrapped in a soft robe cinched gently above her stomach
