The sun was high when Aria found herself wandering the quieter wing of the packhouse. Outside, Ethan’s laughter mingled with the shouts of pups playing tag across the yard, the kind of carefree sound that made her chest ache with both relief and longing. He was safe here—safe, and happy—but the unfamiliar world she had stepped into still left her restless.
Damien was alone in the hall, studying a rolled map spread across a side table. His broad shoulders were relaxed but his focus sharp, as though even a simple map carried the weight of strategy and duty. When he noticed her, the smallest smile tugged at his mouth—gone just as quickly as it came.
“You’re adjusting,” he said, voice calm, as though stating a fact rather than asking a question.
“I’m trying,” Aria admitted, folding her arms
