LOGIN**Lyra's point of view**The change in our rooms was as small and big as the first green shoot coming up through the hard ground of winter. There were no longer unspoken accusations in the air. Instead, it had a tentative, fragile peace that gave people a chance to start rebuilding. Kael's apology and openness had changed everything. The Alpha had bowed his head, and in doing so, he had become a father again.Kenny, who was aware of how his home life was changing, showed it. The cautious, watchful stillness that had begun to cover him went away. His babbling came back, full of the happy, curious rhythm of a baby discovering the world. But the new awareness was still there, a quiet feeling that was always there. We had to guide it; we couldn't ignore it.
**Kael's point of view**The silence in our rooms was a real thing that was thick and hard to breathe. It had a taste, like the bitter ash of burned bridges and fears that weren't spoken. Lyra had taken Kenny to the nursery next door, and her leaving was a silent accusation. The sound of my own roar still seemed to shake the stone walls. I had never yelled at her like that before. The control I was proud of, the unshakable core of the Alpha, had broken under the weight of one terrible truth: I was afraid of my own son.No. Not of *him*. Never of the boy who looked me in the eye and laughed when I threw him in the air. I was scared of the power that was growing inside of him, a power that was as basic and unbreakable as the tides. A power that could tear apart the fragile tapestry I had worked so hard to we
**Lyra's Point of ViewThere was no celebration. The memory of it hung in the pack house like a bad smell, like a sweet smell over a sore that was getting worse. Aiden was gone, but his words had taken root and grown into a tangle of unasked questions and cautious looks. The pack didn't turn against us because they were so devoted to Kael, the Steward, that it was in the air they breathed. But the blind faith was gone, and in its place was a watchful, unsure curiosity. They didn't just see Kenny as a blessed child; they also saw him as a puzzle. A chance.And Kenny... Kenny was changing.The thing that happened with Aiden had set things in motion. It was like a door had opened in his young mind, and he had walked through it. The passive, upset rea
**Kael's Point of View**The quiet war was like a grinding wheel that wore us down in ways that a direct battle never could. The land thrived under my care, and its energy was a real force that flowed through the pack, healing old wounds and bringing people closer together. But in the peace of our home, the stress was starting to show in small cracks.The pack was getting used to Lyra's smile, which used to be a rare and beautiful sunrise. Her eyes, which had the deep, old wisdom of the Keepers, now had a permanent, shadowy worry when she looked at our son. She was overwhelmed by the "what ifs," and my reassurances felt like stones thrown into an ocean that never ends.Kenny was changing as he got closer to being a year old. He was a happy kid who
**Lyra's point of viewKenny's innocent touch showed Kael a map of gray seeds that was like a ghostly overlay on his perception. It was a secret sickness that only we could see. It made everything different. The territory's triumphant rebirth was now overshadowed by a quiet, surgical campaign. We weren't just a family anymore; we were in charge of a war fought with tweezers and holy fire.The first cleansing was a serious and holy event. Kael, Jake, Elara, and I all went to the cliff where the starling had landed. Kenny was with us, wrapped up in a carrier against my chest. His presence made me feel weak and vulnerable. As we got closer to the site, I could feel him move and his small body tense up. He let out a soft whimper, and his little hand, which had been peacefully holding my shirt, turned into a ti
**Kael's Point of ViewThe world had a heartbeat that matched mine. In the days that followed the unification, this was the constant, overwhelming reality of my life. Now, the bright map of the area was always on top of my normal vision. I didn't just see a tree. I saw its life force slowly and patiently pulsing, its roots drinking from the soil in a complicated network, and the tiny, buzzing bugs that lived in its bark. I didn't just hear my pack howling; I could feel how they were all feeling—an increasing sense of joy, strength, and a new, almost primal connection to the land they had always called home, but were only now really *feeling* for the first time.It was a power that made you feel small and high at the same time. I always wanted to stand on the highest peak and *feel* everything—t







