Zara’s POV
The goat was wearing a guard helmet.
I stopped in the middle of the lower corridor and stared as it trotted proudly past a line of exhausted warriors, metal tilted over one eye.
No one stopped it.
Reasonable.
“It has rank now,” Davon said solemnly.
Greyson pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Why is this happening?”
A young servant raised a trembling hand.
“It escaped the kitchens, my Alpha.”
“Why was it in the kitchens?”
A pause.
“For dinner.”
The goat bleated in outrage and sprinted faster.
I laughed so suddenly I nearly choked.
Greyson looked at me.
The corridor, the people, the chaos—everything seemed to blur for one second under that gaze.
Worth it.
“There,” Davon announced. “The fortress morale improves.”
Kael walked in carrying three reports and did not bre
