Lyra watched Rowan as he slowly lowered himself into the chair at the head of the war table. His movements were careful, like every breath hurt. The shadow mark was hidden beneath his tunic, but she knew it was there, spreading, eating away at him from the inside. She wanted to tell him to go back to bed. To rest. But she knew he would refuse. He always did when it came to protecting their people.The large chamber was filled with maps, half-burned reports, and the heavy scent of candle wax and tension. Rebel leaders, clan elders, and a few wary representatives from distant packs sat around the long wooden table. Their faces were drawn with exhaustion and fear. The war had taken its toll on everyone, but none more visibly than the man beside her.Rowan reached under the table and found her hand. His fingers were cold, but he squeezed hers gently, trying to reassure her. She squeezed back harder, her heart aching. She could feel how much strength it took for him just to sit here. Yet h
Last Updated : 2026-06-11
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