I drifted off to the sound of his breathing and the knowledge that tomorrow we’d fix what had been broken for thirteen years.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
VICTORIA
Dawn arrived with mist on the ground and the kind of light that meant the sun wasn’t up yet but was considering it. I dressed in practical clothes, gathering my things and checking that everything was in order.
Feral watched me with an expression I’d come to recognize as affectionate tolerance.
“You realize this is a ritual, not a research expedition,” he said as I tucked a second notebook into my pocket, plus three vials.
“Every ritual is a research expedition if you’re paying attention.”
He couldn’t argue with that.
After breakfast, a quick meal in the main hall, we made our way to the primary seal site on foot, following Bastian and several of his pack through forest that grew quieter the closer we got to our destination.
The other two alphas were waiting when we arrived, one male and one female.
Kirk stood among the witnesses, his expression serious but hopeful. Several other wolf shifters from both packs had gathered to watch a respectful distance.
The bear shifter was there too, standing near pots of duskburst. He gave me a nod before placing each one carefully, checking the soil and sun exposure before moving to the next point.
I surveyed the setup with my professional eye. The site formed a rough circle, five points evenly spaced. The duskburst placement would be correct this time. The soil composition looked appropriate, and the drainage appeared adequate.
Acorn sat on my shoulder, yawning periodically.
I pulled out my documentation, cross-referencing positions with the diagrams I’d made from Bastian’s descriptions and my grandmother’s notes, while the alphas moved into position. Bastian’s spot at his anchor point felt slightly off, angled toward the center, as if he was trying to compensate for years of being the only one holding this together.
I walked over to him. “You’re trying to do everyone’s job again. Stand at your point.”
He opened his mouth but shook his head. Then adjusted his stance.
Arana caught my eye from her position across the circle. The look that passed between us didn’t need words. She winked at Bastian, who blushed.
I continued around the outside, checking each person’s position.
The western pack alpha, the male I hadn’t met, asked a question about timing. His tone carried the slightest edge of dismissal.
Arana’s voice cut across before I could answer. “I’d suggest listening. She’s the reason we’re all here instead of continuing to make things worse.”
His face darkened, but he listened after that.
They started speaking, each saying one line from the papers Bastian had handed out. He’d recited them all himself in the past.
Feral spoke too fast.
I walked over to stand beside him. “You’re rushing. The binding words pace the magic. Match Bastian.”
His eyes met mine. “I’m the king of this territory.”
“And I’m the supervisor of this ritual. Match Bastian.”
From his witness position, Kirk turned his face away, his shoulders shaking.
Feral flexed his arms but adjusted his timing.
I completed my rounds and nodded to Bastian. “The positions are correct. You can begin again when you’re ready.”
