The Blackthorne territory breathed differently at dawn.
Not louder.
Not quieter.
Just… aware.
The wind carried something beneath its usual pine-and-earth perfume, like a thought half-formed, like the forest itself was considering saying something and wasn’t sure whether it should. Wolves always sensed things before they had names. Instinct had saved more packs than treaties ever had.
This morning, instinct hummed like a low warning.
Lila woke to the steady warmth of Caleb’s hand resting over her stomach.
He hadn’t realized he was doing it. She knew because his breathing was still slow, still rhythmic. Sleep hadn’t dragged him under deeply, but it had caught him long enough to soften him. He looked peaceful in a way she wished she could capture and tuck into her pocket for all the ti
