He felt his mouth quirk despite himself. He’d been wary of Korrin at first—the male’s cocky arrogance had grated against his solitary nature—but watching him with Tessa had softened that wariness into something closer to respect. Beneath the swagger and the sharp tongue, Korrin was fiercely devoted to his mate. He understood that devotion now in a way he never could have before.
“This is a beginning,” Seren said, drawing the conversation back to more serious matters. “Nothing more. Trust will need to be earned on both sides. But the foundation has been laid.”
He pushed away from the doorframe, moving to stand behind Jessa. His hand found her shoulder almost without conscious thought, his thumb tracing slow circles against the curve of her neck.
“We’ve been discussing our own plans,” he said. “Jessa and I.”
Seren focused on him, his gaze carrying the weight of his alpha power. “Oh?”
“We want to spend time in the village as well as here.” The decision had come easier than he’d expected. He’d spent so long avoiding any connections. But that was before. Before Jessa. Before Dani. “Jessa needs access to her loom, and there are things I can offer the village. If they are willing to accept them.”
“His healing skills,” she added, tilting her head back to look up at him. Pride shone in her eyes, warm and bright. “He was a healer before. A brilliant one.”
“I was many things before.” His voice roughened despite his best efforts. “Not all of them good.”
“The past is the past,” Seren said calmly. “What matters is what you choose to do now. If you wish to heal again, it is a gift worth sharing.”
He inclined his head, accepting the words even as they settled uncomfortably in his chest. He wasn’t sure he deserved to call his abilities a gift—not after the ways they’d been twisted and misused. But Jessa believed in him, and perhaps, in time, he could learn to believe in himself again.
“There’s also Dani to consider,” Jessa added. “She’s been isolated for so long, first because of her illness and then because of…” She trailed off, but they all knew that she meant their flightinto Vultor territory. “She needs to be around other children. Other humans.”
“Agreed.” Seren nodded slowly. “Balance is important, especially for the young. She should know both worlds—the human and the Vultor.” A hint of warmth softened his stern features. “You’re welcome to visit the pack as well, when you’re ready. In fact…” He paused, something flickering in his amber gaze. “One of my males has recently taken a human mate. A weaver, like yourself. I think you would find much in common.”
Jessa’s eyes were bright with excitement. “Another weaver?”
“Her name is Scarlett. She’s been experimenting with blending human and Vultor textile techniques.” Seren’s mouth curved in what might have been a smile. “I’m told the results are quite impressive.”
“I’d like that,” Jessa said happily. “I’d like that very much.”
The fire crackled and popped, filling the comfortable silence that followed. He found his gaze drifting back to Korrin, who had gone quiet—unusual for him—with a thoughtful furrow between his brows.
“You mentioned something when we first met,” he said. “About seeking out other exiles.”
Korrin’s eyes sharpened. “I did.”
“There was another male.” The words came slowly, dragged up from memories Tarek had tried to bury. “When I first arrived on Cresca, five years ago. I caught his scent in the northern mountains, maybe a day’s journey from here. I never approached him, but I knew he was there.”
Seren gave him a thoughtful look. “Do you know his name? His circumstances?”
“No. Only that he was Vultor, and that he was alone.” Tarek shook his head. “From what I understand he went north, but I don’t know if he simply moved on or…” He didn’t finish the thought. They all knew the alternatives. Death. Or worse—the slow slide into feral madness that claimed Vultor who spent too long without pack, without connection.
“How far north?” Korrin asked.
“A week’s travel, perhaps. Through the high passes.” He met the younger male’s gaze. “The terrain is treacherous. I wouldn’t recommend going alone.”
Korrin groaned, dropping his head back against the cushions with theatrical despair. “Of course it’s a week’s travel. Of course it’s treacherous terrain.” He slanted a look at Tessa, who was watching him with barely concealed amusement. “Why is it never ‘just over that hill’ or ‘a pleasant afternoon’s stroll’?”
“Because you’d get bored,” Tessa said sweetly. “And a bored Korrin is a dangerous Korrin.”
“I’m dangerous all the time.”
“You’re a menace. There’s a difference.”
Seren’s rumbling laugh cut through their teasing. “If anyone can track this exile, it’s you, Korrin. But Tarek is right—the high passes are no place for a solo journey.”
“I know, I know.” Korrin waved a dismissive hand. “Take backup. Don’t die. Standard procedure.” But his expression had sobered, the playfulness fading into something more serious. “Ifthere’s a male out there, especially another one who’s been alone for five years…”
“He needs to be found,” Seren finished. “Before it’s too late.”
