Callen vanished.
Not literally—but in every way that mattered.
Aisha noticed it the first morning after the elders’ meeting.
He was there at dawn, issuing orders, voice steady, presence commanding. Wolves moved when he spoke. The pack flowed around him like a current.
But not once did his eyes linger on her.
When she entered a room, he left it. When she sat near the hearth, he took a position across the hall.
If their paths crossed, he stopped just short of her space, inclining his head politely—formally—and moved on.
No touch.
No quiet check-ins.
No Are you alright? whispered when no one else was listening.
At first, Aisha told herself she was imagining it.
By the third day, she knew she wasn’t.
She caught him mid-conversation once, his gaze flicking toward her before snappi
