The question knocked the breath out of me.
“That's not a decision I'd make alone,” I said slowly. “That would be Michael's choice. His body, his life, his future.”
“But would you want to? If he asked?”
I thought about it, because Nate deserved more than a reflexive answer. Thought about Michael running through the forest beside me, four legs instead of two. Thought about pack bonds strengthening to include him fully, about never having to worry about human fragility in a world built for wolves.
Thought about what it would mean to claim him that completely.
“Yes,” I admitted. “If he wanted it. If he truly wanted it, knowing everything it meant, I would.”
Nate nodded slowly. “I thought so.” He stood, stretched, bones popping in ways that were slightly louder than they should be. Wolf physiology bleeding through. “He might ask, you know. Eventually. Once he figures out what he wants.”
“And what do you think he wants?”
“I think he wants to belong somewhere.” Nate's eyes met mine, and there was wolf in them now. Gold flickering at the edges of gray-green. “I think he wants a family again. And I think he's starting to realize that family doesn't have to look the way he expected.”
Before I could respond, he cocked his head. Listening to something I couldn't hear.
“The forest is restless,” he said. “Has been all day.”
I opened my senses, let my wolf rise enough to sharpen awareness. And underneath the normal pulse of territory and pack bonds, I felt it. A tremor. A wrongness. Like a tooth loose in its socket, not quite ready to fall but nowhere near secure.
“The wards,” I said. “Something's off with the wards.”
“Yeah.” Nate's expression went serious. “I felt it this morning. Thought I was imagining things, but it's getting stronger. Like something's pressing against the boundaries.”
“We should check the perimeter. Before dark.”
“I'll come with you.” It wasn't a request. “The forest talks to me differently than it talks to you. I might feel something you'd miss.”
“Alright,” I said. “But you stay close. And if anything feels wrong?—”
“I run and get help. I know the drill.” He grinned. “Evan's given me this speech about fifty times.”
“Evan's smarter than he looks.”
“He really is.” The fondness in Nate's voice was undeniable. “He's doing better, you know. Since everything with Calder. More confident. More willing to lead.”
“I've noticed.”
“Have you told him?”
The question caught me off-guard. “Told him what?”
“That you're proud of him. That he's becoming the Alpha you always hoped he'd be.” Nate's voice was gentle but pointed. “He needs to hear it, Daniel. From you. Not implied through actions or assumed through silence. Actually spoken out loud.”
I opened my mouth to argue. To say that Evan knew how I felt, that words weren't necessary between wolves who shared pack bonds.
But Nate was looking at me with those storm-gray eyes, and I remembered that he'd brought my son's voice back. Thatwhatever magic he carried, whatever connection to the forest, part of it had been the simple act of seeing Evan clearly and loving him anyway.
“I'll tell him,” I said quietly.
“Good.” Nate clapped me on the shoulder with an easy familiarity that surprised us both. “Now let's go check those wards before whatever's pushing at them decides to push harder.”
We foundthe first ward stone a quarter mile from the waterfall. It sat half-buried in frozen ground, carved with symbols so ancient they'd worn almost smooth. Usually it glowed with soft green-gold light, the visible pulse of protective magic.
Now it flickered. Green-gold fighting against something darker, corruption threading through the carved lines like rot through wood.
