(Third Person).
From where she stood, she could see into the open door of Draven’s study. It was almost unrecognizable.
Then, she walked slowly past the doorway, her gaze softening as she took it all in. Each cleared surface whispered a subtle farewell.
The grand shelves that once held rows of war strategy scrolls and rare historical volus now stood half-empty.
The glass cabinets where ancient relics and silver insignias had been displayed were bare, their contents wrapped in cloth and boxed neatly by the servants.
Draven was nowhere in sight, but his presence was everywhere—in the precision of how things were handled, the way no item was misplaced, the silent discipline of his household.
They were truly leaving Duskmoor.
The thought brought an unexpected tightness to redith’s chest.
So much had happened here—danger, discovery, even love. But now, the house itself felt as though it was holding its breath, waiting for departure.
She turned and continued down the hall, the faint glint of afternoon light spilling through the tall windows and painting golden streaks across the marble floor. Then, she took the stairs.
When she entered her bedroom, she found the sa flurry of movent there, too. Her maidservants were everywhere—folding gowns, wrapping bottles of perfu, tucking shoes into trunks.
Azul and Kira worked wordlessly near the door leading to the dressing room, doing their own bid, while Deidra and Cora were kneeling by the chest at the foot of the bed, closing it with practised efficiency.
redith paused near the door, a faint smile touching her lips. "It seems my room is vanishing before my eyes."
At once, all five maidservants straightened and turned to face her. Azul hurried forward. "My Lady, we didn’t hear you co in."
redith waved off her flustered tone and moved deeper into the room. "It’s fine. I can see everyone is working hard."
Deidra and Cora exchanged a quick glance, their eyes bright. Deidra spoke first, her voice carrying a note of barely contained excitent.
"We are almost done, my Lady. Just one more trunk."
Cora nodded quickly, her smile widening. "It feels good to be going ho finally."
redith stopped, her gaze softening as she looked between them. "You are happy to leave Duskmoor?"
"Yes, my Lady," Deidra said earnestly. "Stormveil is ho. We have missed the air, the trees, the people."
Cora’s hands were still as she added, "Here... it never truly felt like ours."
For a mont, redith said nothing. Their words lingered in the quiet air, wrapping around her thoughts. She understood exactly what they ant.
Duskmoor had always been a place of tension—a land of uneasy peace and hidden war, even though they all liked it here that initial ti she ca here with them.
"Then we will go ho, together," she said softly, almost to herself.
Her maidservants smiled, bowed their heads respectfully, then returned to their work with renewed energy.
redith crossed to the window, her gaze drifting outside where more of Draven’s warriors were gathered near the estate gates, overseeing carts being loaded with crates and fuel barrels.
The sight filled her with both relief and unease. Everything was happening fast, yet not fast enough.
Stormveil awaited. But so did the war.
And sowhere deep inside, redith couldn’t shake the feeling that not everyone would make it ho.
---
By evening, the golden light had faded into a deep amber glow, kissing the edges of the horizon.
The air around the estate was charged, alive with the hum of engines, voices, and footsteps.
redith stood on the balcony outside her room, her hands resting lightly on the cool marble rail.
From where she stood, she had a clear view of the front courtyard below, and the sight stole her breath for a mont.
One by one, cars began pulling through the wide iron gates, their headlights cutting through the soft dusk—dozens of them.
Warriors and families stepped out of the vehicles, n and won with the bearing of wolves — strong, proud, yet visibly tired.
So had been living deep within the city, others on its outskirts, blending among humans until now. But tonight, they returned to their Alpha’s call.
And for every car that arrived, others ca on foot — packs travelling light, carrying only what they could bear.
The air was thick with low murmurs, greetings, and the sounds of trunks being opened, of children’s laughter breaking through the tension for brief monts.
redith’s gaze followed a young woman below, her arm looped around her mate’s as they crossed the drive.
There was sothing deeply grounding about the sight—unity amidst uncertainty. But there was also a quiet ache in her chest.
It struck her then, truly and sharply: these people were depending on Draven—on her husband, to lead them safely ho.
And there were so many of them.
Her eyes swept the growing crowd again. So arranged supplies along the side paths. Servants hurried to and fro, guided by Mada Beatrice’s efficient commands from the main doors.
"How..." she murmured under her breath, her brows furrowing. "How will he house all of them?"
The estate, though vast, wasn’t built for this many. Even with the barracks in the far wing and the guest quarters, it would barely hold half.
She imagined the halls crowded with resting warriors, the gardens turned into makeshift camps.
A soft breeze lifted her silver hair, brushing against her cheek as she leaned a little further over the rail.
Down below, she spotted Draven.
He stood near the entrance drive, tall and composed as ever, despite the chaos around him.
Dennis was beside him, gesturing animatedly at sothing while Jeffery directed new arrivals to the open grounds.
Draven’s presence alone seed to hold everything together. Every ti a new warrior approached him, they bowed their heads, not just in respect, but in relief.
Watching him from above, redith felt that familiar ripple inside her chest—power, devotion, and sothing far deeper.
This was her mate.
Her Alpha.
And her King-to-be.
After watching him for a mont, she finally decided to go down to him.
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