No one tried to stop him.
Callen rose with Aisha in his arms as if she weighed nothing, her body slack against his chest, breath shallow but steady.
The moment he stood, the air changed—thickened, bowed inward, as though the forest itself leaned toward him.
A low sound tore from his throat.
Not a shout.
Not words.
A growl.
It rolled through the clearing, vibrating through bone and blood, carrying something ancient and absolute.
Wolves staggered back instinctively. Elders stiffened, eyes wide, spines straightening under pressure they hadn’t felt in years.
Callen didn’t look at them.
He turned once—slowly—so every wolf could see who he carried. His arm curved protectively around her shoulders, his hand splayed over her back, shielding her from every gaze.
“She is under my protec
