"I’ll allow her to stay," Henry said at last, his voice steady, but low enough that it didn’t carry past the stone walls. "But on one condition."
Lyander raised an eyebrow. He already knew what was coming.
"You’ll watch over her," Henry continued, eyes sharp. "She’s your responsibility now. You brought her here—whatever trouble she causes, it’s on you."
Lyander exhaled slowly. "So I’m her babysitter now?"
A flicker of dry amusent passed over Henry’s face, but it vanished as quickly as it ca. "Think of it as damage control."
Lyander leaned against the wall, arms crossed. He’d been waiting for Henry to approve her stay—just a few nights, long enough for him to dig deeper, to find the item he’d been searching for.
Still, he had to ask. "You’re sure about this? Didn’t you say my presence alone could stir unrest among the others? Much less a human who seed to hide many things."
"I did," Henry said, tone clipped. "And I stand by that. I know she’s suspicious but we couldn’t entirely ignore what she said. And of course, it wouldn’t be an issue if you’d just joined the pack officially."
Lyander chuckled, a low, almost wolfish sound. "Is that your idea of diplomacy? You know as well as I do—it wouldn’t matter. They’d still see as a threat. They’d whisper that I was here to take your place."
Henry’s jaw tightened. "It’s because I’m weak and it’s not your fault."
"It’s fine. And I like my freedom," Lyander added, more gently this ti. "You can’t leash a ghost, Henry. Not for long."
The boy’s dark eyes glead in the firelight. "That’s exactly why this arrangent works. You’ll be here under my orders to watch the girl—unofficial, temporary. The others won’t question it if I spin the right excuse."
Lyander gave him a long look. "So you’ll lie for ."
"I’ll lie for both of us," Henry replied, stepping past him toward the window, voice quieter now. "I’ll tell the others I need ti to decide your place, that I need soone neutral to assess her. But really, I’ll be giving you space. Both of you."
Lyander tilted his head. "That girl—Liora. You don’t trust her."
"No," Henry said. "But I don’t think she’s lying, either. Not entirely. Which makes her even more dangerous."
There was a pause. Just the sound of the wind clawing at the wooden shutters.
"And what about ?" Lyander asked. "Do you trust ?"
Henry looked back at him, and for a mont, he looked every bit the boy he truly was beneath the burden of Alpha. Tired. Worn. But firm.
"If I didn’t," he said, "you wouldn’t be here."
=== 🖤 ===
Liora wasn’t welco here. That much was clear the mont she stepped beyond the safety of the main hall.
The air outside was sharp and biting, but not nearly as cold as the stares that greeted her.
She walked with quiet footsteps, led by a young servant who kept her head low and her eyes forward. The girl didn’t say a word, only nodded toward the path Liora was ant to follow—narrow, graveled, and lined with torches that flickered against the dark woods beyond.
"Stay on the path," the servant had warned in a whisper. "And don’t talk to anyone. It’s safer that way."
Safer. That word echoed louder than it should have.
As they walked, Liora could feel them watching—silent, hulking shadows near the training yards, half-shifted figures by the barracks. So paused mid-conversation, heads turning with eerie synchronicity. Others didn’t bother to hide their suspicion, letting their gazes sweep over her like predators sizing up prey.
And maybe that’s exactly what they thought she was.
A human. Fragile. Intruding on territory that wasn’t ant for her kind.
She spotted one man leaning against the trunk of a tree, arms crossed over a muscled chest, dark eyes glowing faintly in the gloom. His lip curled in a silent snarl before he turned away, vanishing into the darkness like mist.
Another woman, dressed in hunter’s leathers, gave her a long, hard look—and Liora stiffened. Her eyes were entirely black. Not just the irises, but the sclera too. Full shift wasn’t far for her. And judging by the way her nails had already sharpened into claws, her wolf didn’t appreciate a stranger walking among their own.
Liora quickened her pace.
She wanted to believe it was just instinct—werewolves protecting their pack. But it felt deeper than that. Older. Like the forest itself was whispering warnings she couldn’t understand.
They don’t trust you.
They don’t want you here.
They think you’re a threat. Or worse . . . a liability.
The servant finally led her to a low stone guesthouse tucked near the edge of the cliffs, away from the main den. Isolated. Quiet. Probably intentional.
"This is your room," the servant said softly, not eting her eyes. "You should stay inside after dark. The pack doesn’t . . . adjust easily to change."
Liora nodded, trying to hide the chill curling up her spine. "Thank you. But uhmm . . . should there be a guard here with ? I’m only human after all among the . . . wolves."
The servant’s face remained carefully blank, her eyes trained straight ahead as they approached the stone steps of the guesthouse. Only when they reached the doorway did she finally speak—her voice soft, emotionless.
"Sir Lyander will be your guard while you’re here," she said. "Don’t worry. The pack won’t touch you . . . as long as our Alpha has given the order."
Liora glanced at her, searching her expression for any hint of reassurance—but found none. The words felt more like a warning than a comfort. A reminder that her safety hinged on the will of a boy who carried too much weight in his small, serious hands.
She crossed her arms. "Right. That unshakable loyalty to your Alpha. You can’t defy his orders, can you? I read about it—how you’re all connected through so sort of mind link. You feel each other’s thoughts. Emotions."
The servant stiffened, just barely—but enough for Liora to catch it. Her posture remained formal, composed. Yet sothing in the air shifted, a tension that hadn’t been there before.
For a mont, Liora thought she might respond. Might offer so insight. Instead, the girl simply gave a short bow and turned without another word, vanishing back into the path they ca from.
Liora stood in the doorway, left alone with the soft wind and the distant rustle of leaves. The silence was louder now, heavier. She stepped inside the guesthouse and closed the door, listening to the quiet click of the latch.
They hadn’t locked her in. But she knew it wouldn’t matter.
This wasn’t protection.
It was containnt.
And no matter how pretty the cage was, she could still feel the wolves circling beyond the glass.
Liora took one last glance over the glass. Several figures lingered along the ridgeline, silhouettes backlit by the dying sun. Watching. Waiting.
And for the first ti since she’d arrived, she wondered if Henry had really allowed her to stay . . . or if he’d simply put her in a cage with wolves.
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