Waiting

KAEL'S POV

The walk from my house to the circle takes longer than it should.

My feet know the way. Past the pack hall. Past the training grounds, quiet now that night has come. Out to the clearing at the edge of the woods, where every rite has happened since before I was born. I've walked this path a hundred times. Never like this.

The moon clears the ridge just as I reach the circle.

Torches line the clearing, their flames bending in a cold wind. The whole pack is already here, more than I expected, standing close together in a silence that isn't quite fear and isn't quite respect. Something in between. I know that feeling well tonight.

Darin steps up beside me at the edge of the crowd, close enough that no one else can hear.

"Last chance to change your mind," he says.

"You already asked me that."

"I know. Asking again."

I don’t answer. The words sit in my throat, heavier than they should. He doesn’t push.

Mara stands near the front, the way she always does for pack rites. Her back is straight. Her face gives nothing away. Lyra isn't next to her.

The absence hits harder than it should, a sudden wrongness I can't ignore.

I walk over before I can stop myself.

"Where is she?"

"On her way." Mara doesn't quite look at me. "I told her to walk in on her own. Some things aren't mine to bring you."

I don’t know what to make of that answer. I set it aside. I don’t have time for it.

My eyes keep drifting back to the edge of the clearing anyway, waiting for her to appear, like some part of me isn't willing to trust the rest of this until I actually see her walking toward it.

Lorenzo stands at the center of the circle, hands folded, waiting the way a man waits when he's done this many times before. He knows exactly how it's supposed to go, and exactly how it could go wrong. He doesn't look at me the way the others do. He looks at me like a problem he hasn't decided how to solve yet.

"Alpha," he says. "You understand the terms."

"I do."

"Then we begin the moment she arrives."

I look toward the trees again. She isn’t there. The pull in my chest is sharper now than it’s been since they took her out of my house.

My chest does the thing it's been doing all day, a steady, aching pull, sharper now than it's been since they took her out of my house.

Some part of me is afraid she won’t come at all. That she’s had hours to think, to weigh what she knows against what I’ve told her, and decided the smarter choice is to run while she still can.

I wouldn't blame her.

I'd understand it better than anyone standing in this circle.

The wind shifts. It carries pine. Woodsmoke. And underneath both, the scent that’s been living under my skin since I found her.

Then I see her.

She hasn’t washed or changed since this afternoon. Same clothes. Dirt still on her boots, like she ran part of the way.

She’s walking toward the circle alone, and the sight of it steadies nothing. Something in my chest aches harder at that than the pull ever has.

Her face gives nothing away. I can't tell if she's walking toward me, or toward whatever she's already decided has to happen tonight.

Lorenzo lifts his hands.

"Begin," he says.

The chant starts before I'm ready for it.