{"If you don't stand for something, you'll fall for anything."}
We moved to the Kayne home as Frery pushed open the heavy oak door and gestured me inside with a smile that undid me more than any battle ever had.
"Come on, Alpha," he said teasingly. "You've earned a drink."
Inside, the hearth was already lit, casting golden flickers across the wood-beamed ceiling and polished floors. A long table had been set with food, simple, rich, and made with love: roasted root vegetables, sweet, braised meats, Mira spiced bread, and honeyed cider. The scent alone nearly made me forget every wound I had taken in the last few weeks.
Qadira was in the corner with Rolan, showing him an old family mural painted across the stone wall. He listened in that quiet way, like every word she spoke was a map to something sacred.
