"I'll think about it," I said.
Rae's shoulders relaxed slightly. "That's all I'm asking."
It wasn't a promise. We both knew that.
Neal was in his office when I found him.
He looked up when I knocked on the open door, his expression flickering through surprise, caution, and that careful professional blankness he wore like armor.
"Lumi." He set down his pen. "Can I help you with something?"
"I need to talk to you. Privately."
His jaw tightened. "I'm in the middle of—"
"It's about Cal. And his pack."
That got his attention. I saw the moment curiosity won out over caution — the slight narrowing of his eyes, the way his body angled toward me despite himself.
"Close the door," he said.
I did. Then I told him everything.
Cal's shift. His memories. The pack he'd left behind. The vision I'd had — the wolves running through snow, the bear, the blood. The four ferals still out there, waiting for a rescue that had never come.
Neal listened without interrupting. His face stayed neutral, but I felt the bond between us shifting as I spoke — surprise giving way to concern, concern giving way to something that felt dangerously close to fear.
We hadn't spent much time together since the bond had snapped into place. He'd been avoiding me — avoidingthis, the impossible connection between us that neither of us had asked for. But in this moment, with the door closed and his professional mask slipping, I could feel him more clearly than I had since that first night.
He was terrified. Not of the mountain. Of me. Of what I made him feel.
"You want to go after them," he said when I finished. Not a question.
"Yes."
"Without Council approval. Without trained backup. Without any guarantee they're still alive."
"Yes."
"You've done this before." It wasn't an accusation. Just a statement of fact. "The first time. When you found Cal. You went alone."
"James followed me."
"But you went first. Without telling anyone. Based on nothing but a vision you'd had since you were a child." Neal shook his head slowly. "You're insane."
"Probably." I stepped closer. "But I was right. And I'm right about this."
"The mortality rate for mountain climbing—"
"I know the statistics. I've been studying Denali since I was eleven years old, Neal. Every approach route, every weather pattern, every survival technique. I know that mountain better than people who've climbed it a dozen times." I held his gaze. "I didn't go unprepared last time. I won't be unprepared now."
"You'll still be going against explicit orders. If Rae finds out—"
"Rae wants to wait for Council approval. I can't wait."
"Can't? Or won't?"
"Does it matter?" I felt my voice crack and hated myself for it. "They're out there, Neal. Right now. Alone. Scared. And every day that passes, they lose a little more of themselves. Cal barely remembered they existed. What happens when there's nothing left to remember?"
