The flaw Lyra left behind was small enough to be ignored by anyone who wasn’t looking for it.
Ronan was looking for obedience, not precision.
That was the advantage.
The restored reroute went through smoothly at first. Messages flowed. Supplies moved. The pack exhaled as if a hand had been lifted from its throat. Even the council relaxed, believing the confrontation at the northern meeting ground had resolved a fundamental issue.
Lyra let them believe it.
She stood in the records room late into the night, watching the system breathe again—a healthy system inhaled and exhaled without sound. An unhealthy one wheezed. This one sounded normal.
Too normal.
Tyler leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “They’re settling.”
“For now,” Lyra said.
“You don’t look relieved.”
“I’m not,” sh
