Caleb
The packhouse felt hollow without Savannah. Two days since Iowyn had delivered the news of her condition, and her absence hung in the air like a physical thing—a vacuum where her energy should have been. I could feel it through the mate bond, that strange emptiness where her vibrant presence normally pulsed. Not gone, but dormant. Suspended, as Iowyn had explained, in the Deep Sleep beneath the marble-sealed surface of Winter Court's moon milk pool.
Three days, he'd said. Possibly longer.
I stood at the window of my office, watching pack members move through their daily routines in the yard below. Life continued despite crisis—training sessions, meals, patrols. The rhythms of pack existence providing stability when everything else felt uncertain.
A knock at the door pulled me fro
