ANMELDENOdett’s POV Voices carried from the family room. Mom spoke first, then Aunt Jess, followed by a deeper laugh that stopped me outside the doorway. I remembered that laugh from childhood more clearly than I remembered Sam’s face on the day he left. Then I breathed him in. Cedar reached me beneath the door, mixed with rain, soap, and a warmth I did not remember from childhood. The scent caught in my throat. Then the feeling under my ribs pulled tight, and I forgot how to breathe. Lorilie surged to the surface. ‘Mate,’ she breathed with stunned certainty. Lorilie had not guessed. Recognition ran through us before I could question it. I heard the heartbeats inside the room, one drawing my attention so fiercely the others faded. Sam’s. I stood frozen outside the doorway while the scent wrapped around me. It belonged to the person Lorilie had sensed drawing closer for days. It belonged to the man who had carried me when my legs were too short to keep up and left before I was ol
Odett’s POV Mom found me at the kitchen table before sunrise. My tea had gone cold beside the open journal. I had recorded seven bells and the direction the children faced, leaving a blank where the blonde girl’s unheard word belonged. “You should have woken me,” Mom said. “The room was fine, Lorilie stayed connected, and I wanted to record it before I forgot anything,” I explained quietly. Mom read while I held the journal. She slowed at the blonde girl, and I watched her face, waiting for an explanation. She didn’t offer one. I could see she was frightened for me, but she wasn’t going to invent an answer just to ease my fear. “Did you feel trapped when the ground split?” Mom asked. “For a second,” I answered honestly. “Then I woke up before anything reached me.” “And your magic?” she questioned gently. “It stayed mine,” I replied. Grandma Ezmerelda arrived while Mom checked the bedroom wards. She examined my magic, Lorilie’s connection, and the protection woven int
Odett’s POV “Yes,” Joshy answered evenly. “The rescue may have been reasonable, while the failure to document command still requires review.” I had been answering as if any criticism of the commander condemned the rescue. It did not. We could say she had been right to go and still require her to account for what happened to her post. “The commander should not be disciplined for leaving the route to perform the rescue. She should receive a procedural correction for failing to confirm and record the transfer of command,” I concluded with deliberate clarity. Our instructor allowed the panel to question both of us before ending the hearing. Nolan supported the divided finding, while Cassian wanted additional training rather than a formal correction. The remaining students disagreed about whether emergency circumstances justified ignoring the record requirement. The panel disagreed after the hearing. Our instructor called that realistic. I had expected a ruling to end the argumen
Odett’s POV The warmth was quiet enough to ignore by morning, so of course I noticed it every time I moved. Lorilie had stopped pacing. Her attention remained turned toward the road, watchful now instead of impatient. ‘You are checking it again,’ she observed. ‘I am getting dressed,’ I replied silently. ‘You have been holding the same shirt for a full minute,’ she countered. I put on the shirt before she counted another minute. The convoy had a day of road left if nothing delayed it. Standing in my room listening for a feeling would not shorten that drive. The kitchen was less crowded than usual. Dad had already gone to his office, Mom was helping Zerina find a missing presentation page, and Uncle Orian had driven to the final protected station to meet the convoy. His absence made the expected arrival feel more real than any estimate had. “Did they find the page?” Joshy asked while taking the seat across from me. “Zander filed it with his own notes because he said the
Odett’s POV “Making a decision quickly doesn’t always mean making it well,” she told us. At lunch I thought of Dad’s land maps. He had learned to move quickly when delay meant losing someone. I understood that fear; I also needed him to let me help decide what happened to my own pack. On paper I could tell when a leader had used protection to justify control. I hoped I would notice it as clearly when I loved the person I was trying to keep safe. Lorilie shifted her attention away from my thoughts before I finished eating. The warmth beneath my ribs tightened, not painfully, but enough to steal the breath I had been about to take. My hand closed around the edge of the table. ‘Closer,’ she whispered with startled recognition. ‘Can you feel Kyron?’ I asked with guarded hope. Lorilie reached carefully. No voice or mindlink answered her, and after a few heartbeats the warmth quieted. She settled close to me again, no less frustrated than I was. ‘No voice and no mindlink,’ L
Odett’s POV Lorilie woke me before my alarm by pacing through the edges of my mind. She was not frightened, and no nightmare had followed me into the morning. She was simply too alert for a wolf who had spent most of the night complaining that I refused to sleep properly. ‘He is closer,’ she announced. ‘Good morning to you too,’ I replied silently. ‘You already knew I was awake,’ she answered. I lay still and felt for yesterday’s warmth. It was faint and steady beneath my ribs, with no pain or surge of magic. Sam was traveling south, and I wanted that to explain it. Wanting an answer made me careful about claiming one. Mom and Grandma had found nothing wrong. I was relieved until Lorilie began pacing again. She seemed to know what the feeling meant and could not tell me how. By the time I entered the kitchen, Dad and Uncle Orian had already finished one pot of coffee. Joshy sat at the table with three study guides open around his breakfast. He looked prepared to take the







