“She will present her findings,” I say. “But she will be treated with respect.”
Brynn nods once. “Of course.”
Gideon inclines his head, satisfaction masked behind courtesy.
“Ciaran,” I say without looking away from Gideon, “summon her.”
Ciaran nods once and steps away down the corridor.
The wolves around us begin to disperse slowly, tension easing but not vanishing. Gideon remains where he stands for a moment longer, studying me as if measuring the next move.
The corridor tension follows us back into the stone clearing like smoke clinging to clothing.
Council members take their places again, but nobody settles fully. Brynn’s staff rests beside her chair, the carved wood steady against stone. Marek’s hands are clasped too tightly, while Lydia keeps her expression smooth as if she can iron fear into order. Gideon stands instead of sitting, posture relaxed in a way that reads as performance.
Ciaran has not returned with Cassidy yet.
The delay irritates me more than it should, and my wolf paces beneath my ribs as if it can feel the trap closing. I keep my gaze fixed on the central table, forcing my breathing into something even.
Bootsteps sound outside the chamber.
Kieran Rourke enters without knocking, mud on her boots and forest sharp in her scent. Two enforcers follow her in, faces set, eyes alert. The entire room shifts toward her in unison, and even Gideon’s posture tightens a fraction.
“Report,” Brynn says.
Kieran’s gaze flicks to me first. “Rogue scent within five hundred yards of the human’s cabin.”
The words land like a strike.
I keep my face still, but my wolf surges hard enough to make my hands curl. In my mind, I see Cassidy’s porch, the thin line of trees beyond it, the way she insists on standing her ground as if stubbornness is armor.
“How fresh,” I ask.
“Minutes,” Kieran replies. “We caught it on the wind near the western cut by her property line. It is moving fast.”
I stand slowly.
“Send another patrol,” I say. “Double the perimeter around that cabin. Sweep the ravine mouth and the access road junction.”
Kieran nods once, already turning to leave.
“And no shifting near the road,” I add. “Humans are still patrolling the ridge.”
Her eyes meet mine. “Understood.”
She exits immediately, enforcers following, their steps quick and purposeful. The chamber hums with tension the moment the door closes again.
Gideon’s voice cuts into the silence like a blade. “Interesting,” he says, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Perhaps the rogue is drawn to her scent.”
My wolf slams against restraint.
The insinuation is filthy, deliberate, and designed to provoke. I feel my bones itch with the threat of shift, heat rising fast beneath my skin. A low sound builds in my chest, part growl, part warning, and it takes every ounce of control to keep it from becoming something visible.
Brynn’s staff taps once, sharp.
Lydia’s eyes narrow.
Marek watches me like he expects claws.
