The meetings became routine before they became easy.
Every seventh day, just before dusk, Lila left the children with Seren and walked the forest path alone. She never hurried. Never lingered either. The clearing by the spring waited exactly as it always had—unchanged, patient, indifferent to the fragile work being done within it.
Caleb was always there first.
That mattered.
He never approached until she did. Never crossed the invisible boundary she’d drawn around herself. He learned quickly that trust did not respond to pressure—it responded to consistency.
They spoke at first about neutral things.
The weather.
Trade routes shifting.
How the forest had recovered after the harsh winter.
He did not ask about her life.
She did not ask about his pack.
It was safer that way.
But sl
