The High Steward looked surprised, then satisfied. She pushed the parchment forward.
“Everything is ready. You only need to sign.”
I picked up the pen and wrote my name without hesitation.
“You leave on the ninth of next month,” she said.
I counted the days silently.
Less than twenty.
That was enough.
There was much to settle before then, and I had no wish to waste another moment entangled with Lucian Thornfell and Rosalie Winfield.
I would leave on the appointed day.
And on that same day—
I would end everything between the Alpha and his Luna.
As dusk approached, rain began to fall over the pack territory.
It began as a thin silver mist beyond the tall hall windows, drifting softly across the courtyard stones. Gradually, the mist thickened into steady rain, until the stone paths gleamed dark beneath the downpour and the torches along the walls hissed faintly in the damp air.
Just as I was sorting the last of the ledgers on my desk, the moonstone at my wrist warmed, glowing faintly with Lucian’s summons.
I paused for a moment before answering.
The moment I opened the connection, his voice came through, low and impatient.