The morning light bled across Silas’s office windows, too soft to match the taut unease knotted in his chest. His wolf paced in the back of his mind, restless, pulling against the leash of his composure. Celeste had been gone only a day, but it felt longer, too long not to know when, or if, she’d return.
He sat at his desk, pen scratching over the endless stream of documents that defined his rule. Beside him, Victoria lounged with her usual mix of ease and sharpness, going over reports with the casual authority of someone who had grown up surrounded by politics.
“You’re distracted,” she remarked without looking up.
He didn’t deny it. “My wolf won’t settle. Not until I know she’s safe.”
Victoria gave a faint smile. “That makes two of us.”
Before Silas could answer, something caught his
