Chapter 8 Eight

RYAN’S POV

The manor felt different after the attack. Every corridor held the faint echo of the power that had burst from her. Wolves who'd once met my eyes now bowed their heads when I passed.

Lilith stood in the courtyard, alone. The torches painted her hair in gold and shadow. She was tracing something on the stone - marks that shimmered faintly, as though the earth itself responded to her touch.

I found her still there when I descended. She looked up as I approached, eyes reflecting the firelight. "You should rest," I said.

"I can't," she replied. "It's too loud. Everything is."

She pressed a hand to her chest. "I can hear them - your wolves. Their hearts, their breath. It doesn't stop."

I hesitated. "You're hearing the bond. It means your wolf is linking to the pack."

"I'm not part of your pack," she said softly.

The words stung more than they should have. "Maybe not yet," I said.

Her gaze held mine. "You talk like you believe I can belong here."

"I believe you already do," I said before I could stop myself.

The silence between us stretched. The fire crackled, throwing light across her face.

"When it gets loud," I said, "focus on one sound. One heartbeat. Let everything else fade."

"Whose heartbeat?" she asked.

"Mine," I replied.

She hesitated, then closed her eyes. The air between us tightened. I let my own breathing slow, steady, until the rhythm of her pulse fell in line with it.

The noise in her expression eased. When she opened her eyes again, there was a softness there that made the wolf inside me go silent.

"Better?" I asked.

She nodded. "It's strange. Peaceful."

The Council's riders arrived at dawn. Their armor caught what little light the mist allowed, each plate etched with the Balance sigil.

Marek met them at the gates, but I was already on the steps above the courtyard. When their leader dismounted - a woman with silver hair and a scar across her mouth - I felt my wolf press against my skin.

"They smell of metal and fear," I thought.

The envoy climbed the last step and bowed slightly. "Alpha Radae," she said. "You know why we're here."

I inclined my head. "Remind me."

"The girl. The anomaly. The Council requires her transfer to our custody."

Behind me, the guards shifted uneasily. Travis, leaning against a pillar, smiled too easily.

"You'll have to be specific, Councilor," I said. "We keep a few anomalies around here."

The envoy's eyes narrowed. "Don't test me."

I kept my voice even. "Lilith Greyson is under Radae protection. You can make your report, and we'll relay our findings when she's stable."

The envoy's gaze flicked toward the manor windows. "Is that what you call it when the earth shakes under your roof?"

The wolf inside me growled. I forced the sound down.

"If you came to threaten, do it quickly," I said. "If you came to help, stand aside."

The envoy smiled - a thin, cold thing. "We'll camp at your border tonight. At moonrise, the Council will expect compliance."

She turned and left without another word. Their horses thundered away, leaving the scent of forged steel behind.

Travis exhaled. "That went well."

I ignored him, eyes on the forest line. The wolves beyond the walls were restless again; I could hear them pacing.

The pack felt my tension, and tension in an Alpha spread like fever.

That night, I found her in the old library - the one that smelled of dust and forgotten wars. She was sitting by the fire, reading one of the pack ledgers, brow furrowed.

"You should be asleep," I said.

She didn't look up. "You should stop telling me what to do."

Despite myself, I smiled. "Fair enough."

I stepped closer, the floorboards creaking under my boots. "The Council's here."

"I know," she said quietly. "I can feel them. Their wolves hum differently - empty."

I studied her. "You're not afraid."

"I'm tired of being afraid," she said.

The firelight turned her eyes amber. My wolf pushed against my ribs, restless.

"She stands like an Alpha," I thought. "The pack will feel it."

"I should move you to the inner wing until they're gone," I said.

"You think walls will stop them?" she asked.

"No," I replied. "But it might make me feel better."

"Then do it for you, not me," she said.

The honesty caught me off guard. For a moment, I forgot the Council, the politics, the danger.

There was only the sound of the fire and the steady rhythm of her breathing.

Touch her hand, the wolf urged. I didn't.

I clenched my fists until the urge passed. "When this is over, we'll find your sister," I said.

Her head snapped up. "You know about her?"

"I've read the Council's files," I replied. "They took her the same night they found you."

Lilith's fingers tightened around the ledger. "Then she's still alive," she said.

"Maybe," I said.

"No - she is," she said. Her voice broke on the word, and for the first time, I saw not power, not defiance, but grief.

The wolf went silent - reverent almost. I knelt beside her chair.

"We'll find her," I said again, softer. "I swear it."

She looked at me then, and something flickered between us - recognition, dangerous and bright.

I felt my pulse stumble. The wolf whispered, "She's ours."

The howls outside rose into a single, echoing chord that shook the manor's glass. Somewhere within those walls, I knew Lilith was awake - listening to the same moon, feeling the same pull.

The night had stopped being calm long ago even though I didn’t notice earlier.