Freya smiles faintly. “Peace is easier to guard when everyone remembers how to fight, brother.”
He nods once. “We’re stronger than ever before.”
“Nightfell’s warriors have helped with that,” she says.
“They’re rough,” Jax replies, eyes still on the courtyard. “But effective. Ours needed that.”
Freya glances at him. “And you?”
There’s a small pause. “I don’t need help staying sharp,” he says with a hint of a smile playing on his lips. Then, adds: “Just purpose.”
Her smile softens. “You found it?”
He exhales through his nose—a sound almost like a laugh. “Didn’t have to look far. Now someone’s got to make sure this place doesn’t fall apart again.”
“It’s the Goddess’s blessing that we have you for that very reason, Beta Jax,” she says, laughing lightly. “Thank you.”
He takes it as the highest of compliments, bowing low. “You’re welcome, High Luna.”
He leaves to oversee training, and the balcony grows quiet again. The sun climbs higher, glinting off the rooftops of the training sheds and healers’ huts. Freya turns toward the council hall where the morning meeting waits.
???
The grand table gleams in the center of the room. On one side sit Silvercrest members—Brin, Maelin, Tamsin—and on the other, warriors from Nightfell. Rowan sits at the head with Freya, his dark cloak draped over the back of his chair. His presence is commanding but it also grounds her.
Brin speaks first. “The eastern borders are stable. The last of the rogues have joined the fold. Riverbane’s pack members are also slowly blending in with us for the first time sincetheir Alpha’s surrender. As per reports, they’re finally growing comfortable.”
Maelin nods. “Two new pups were born under the full moon. Both healthy.”
Tamsin flips through her notes. “The stores are replenished. The apothecary’s rebuilding will finish before winter.”
Freya listens, chin resting on her hand. “Good,” she says softly. “No one goes hungry this winter. Not one child.”
Brin smiles. “Already arranged.”
The meeting ends smoothly. As the others rise and leave, Rowan lingers behind. He watches her gather the papers, suppressing a smile.
“You’ve turned this broken place into something living,” he says quietly.
Freya looks up. “You helped.”
He leans on the table, one brow raised. “Did I? I only followed your lead.”
“Rogues don’t follow,” she says, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.
Rowan steps closer, holding her hand and pressing a kiss on the back of it. “For you, they kneel.”
As the silence between them stretches, Freya feels very aware of every inch of her body because of how intently Rowan is watching her. She lets out a shuddering breath at last.
“Council dismissed,” Freya says to no one.
???
They walk together through the corridor, sunlight striping the marble floor.
At the door to her chamber, Rowan stops. “You look at me,” he mumbles, “like you’re waiting for permission.”
She turns, arching a brow. “To do what?”
