The war room door clicks shut behind the last elder, but the silence that follows feels louder than any howl. My hand stays pressed to the slight swell of my belly, where the pup flutters again—like a tiny heartbeat reminding me that everything has just become infinitely more fragile and infinitely more worth fighting for.
Kieran’s arm stayed around my waist tightly. He’s already working out exits and reinforcements and how to get me someplace safe before the next shoe drops.
I am not ready to let him.
“Elara,” I say quietly, the name tasting bitter. “She’s the one who’s been feeding information to Darius. Isn’t she?”
No one answers right away. Rowena’s jaw tightens, her golden eyes flicking toward the door as if she can still smell the healer’s lingering bergamot-and-guilt scent. Madd
