Valerie's POV
The evening had settled over Silvermoon like a shroud, quiet and heavy. In my private dining chamber, three wolves sat around a table laden with food none of us touched.
Theron had returned that morning, his expression weary but his eyes clear. He had come to say goodbye before the expedition left north, and the weight of that goodbye pressed down on all of us.
Knox sat across from Theron, his hand pressed against his chest where the shard pulsed. I sat between them, my fingers wrapped around a goblet I hadn't drunk from.
"This is awkward," Theron said finally, a ghost of a smile on his face. "I've faced war councils less tense than this."
I managed a weak laugh. "We're not very good at goodbyes."
"Neither was I." Theron's gaze softened. "But I've had practice lately."
