Morning came quietly.
No alarms. No council summons. No howls echoing through the mountains.
Just pale light filtering through the tall windows of the private wing, brushing against stone and history alike.
Amelia woke slowly, disoriented for a heartbeat before memory rushed back in—raised platforms, carved walls, the weight of last night still humming beneath her skin. She sat up, drawing the blanket tighter around herself, and found Ethan already awake.
He stood near the window, phone pressed to his ear, posture rigid in a way she was beginning to recognize.
Alpha mode.
“Yes,” he was saying quietly. “Increase patrols around the city perimeter. No—discreetly. I don’t want panic.”
A pause.
“I don’t care how subtle Eve thinks she’s being. I want eyes everywhere.”
He ended the call
