Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Shadow did not return.
That was the first sign.
Days passed without tremor or pressure, without the cold awareness that had become almost familiar beneath Lyra’s skin. The bond no longer tightened at random hours. The land remained quiet. Too quiet.
Lyra did not mistake silence for absence.
She stood on the eastern watchtower at dawn, eyes tracking the valley below as patrols changed shifts. Everything appeared orderly. Too orderly. Wolves moved with purpose, supply wagons rolled on schedule, scouts returned with clean reports.
Cain joined her without speaking, resting his forearms on the stone rail. “No incidents overnight.”
Lyra nodded. “That’s what worries me.”
He glanced at her. “You think it’s waiting.”
“Yes.”
Cain frowned. “For what?”
Lyra didn’t a
