"Ryan, it's already late."
Robyn's gentle voice broke the silence inside Winterveil Pack's study room.
The fire crackled quietly, its glow dancing across Ryan's face as he sat in the large wooden chair behind his desk. Papers were scattered before him, but his eyes weren't really seeing any of them.
"Go to bed, Robyn," he said softly, not looking up. "I just want to finish a bit more work."
The girl stepped in, ignoring her brother's warning.
"You haven't slept properly for three nights. Everyone in the Pack is starting to worry."
Ryan gave a faint smile, barely visible. "I don't need sleep. I feel what's already been taken from me."
Robyn stared at her brother's broad, tense back. "You're talking about Arwen, aren't you?"
There was no answer—only the soft crackle of the flames.
"
