Caleb POV.
It started with silence.
Not the hostile kind that once greeted Caleb when he passed by, nor the uneasy hush that often preceded whispered doubts. This silence was different. It held weight. Thought. Realization.
The courtyard of the pack house was crowded with wolves — warriors, scouts, the elders. Every ranking member of Rowan’s pack had gathered under the pale moonlight, summoned not for a fight, but for something equally dangerous: recognition.
Caleb stood alone in the center of the half-circle, shoulders squared despite the weight pressing on him from every direction. He didn’t fidget or look away. His chin stayed high, his eyes steady. Rowan stood a few paces behind him, hands behind his back, jaw set firm — not as Alpha, not as judge, but as witness.
Elder Tamir step
