The estate's walls rose out of the mist like a shadow given form. By the time Derek and I crossed the last stretch of yard, the cold had seeped into my bones, a chill that wasn't entirely from the night air. The quiet pressed in heavy. No guards at the gate, no voices carrying from the courtyard. Just the muted thud of our boots on packed dirt.
We didn't speak until we hit the main doors. Derek pushed them open without ceremony, letting the dim lamplight spill into the night. I stepped inside first, the warmth of the hall wrapping around me like something that should have been comforting and wasn't.
Raelyn's voice drifted from the far end. She was perched on the edge of a long table, a half-empty glass in her hand. "Back so soon? I was starting to wonder if the Strays had eaten you both."
"Almost." Derek said, shedding his coat. "We found where they crossed."
Her easy smile faded. "And?"
"They've been camped just outside the border. Using a low crossing to hunt both sides of the river. We left four at the bank." His gaze flicked toward me briefly. "Cassidy took one down herself."
Raelyn's brows lifted. "Did she now?" She looked at me like she wasn't sure whether to be impressed or concerned. "And you're still standing."
I didn't answer. My hands still itched from the fight, my knuckles tight on the memory of that blade biting through flesh.
"Where's Tomas?" Derek asked.
"War room." Raelyn said. "Hasn't moved since you left."
Derek nodded once and headed for the stairs without another word. Raelyn slid off the table and followed, leaving me alone in the entry hall with the quiet.
For a moment I stood there, unsure if I should trail after them or vanish to my rooms. But curiosity won out. I followed the sound of voices to a small chamber tucked just off the main hall. A map of the northern riverlands was spread across the table, markers scattered over its surface.
Tomas didn't look up when we entered. "Report."
Derek leaned on the table, tapping a point along the river. "Here. That's where they're crossing. Small pack. Four we dealt with, but more scents upriver. They've been there long enough to strip carcasses."
Tomas's eyes flicked to me then back to the map. "And?"
"She fought." Derek said. "Held her own. Got messy, but she's quick. Honestly, it was surprising."
A faint curve touched Tomas's mouth. "Not that surprising."
Something in the way he said it made my chest tighten. Like he'd been waiting to see it all along.
"Upriver's too exposed to leave unchecked." Derek went on. "We'll need a sweep."
"You'll take William." Tomas said. "Clear it before the week's end."
Derek nodded and stepped back. "Understood."
"Go." Tomas said. "Rest. You'll need it."
Derek left without a glance my way. The door shut behind him, the sound too final in the small room. Tomas straightened, finally looking at me fully.
"You didn't freeze."
"I thought I might."
"But you didn't."
"No." I admitted. "I didn't."
He studied me for a long beat. "Good."
There was no praise in the word, just a simple acknowledgment. Somehow, that meant more.
I crossed my arms, leaning a hip against the table. "Was this part of the job description you forgot to mention? Moon-mad shifters who want to tear my face off?"
"I told you I wouldn't keep you safe behind walls. If you can't handle what's out there, you have no use to me."
"You're all heart."
His eyes didn't soften, but his voice dropped lower. "If I didn't think you could handle it, I wouldn't have sent you."
The words hung between us. I looked away first.
"You've done enough for tonight. Go clean up."
I took the hint. My boots left a trail of dried mud on the polished floors as I made my way upstairs. By the time I reached my rooms, the silence had crept in again. I shut the door behind me, leaning against it for a moment. My limbs ached from the fight and the cold, but my head wouldn't settle. Every blink replayed the Stray's eyes locking on mine, the hiss of its breath, the weight of its body pinning me down.
I stripped off the mud-caked clothes and tossed them in a heap. The bath was scalding, steam curling in the air, but it didn't drive out the chill completely. I scrubbed until the water ran pink, until the smell of blood and wet fur was gone from my skin. Only then did I pull on a clean shift and crawl into bed.
Sleep didn't come.
I lay on my side, staring at the faint glow from the banked fire. Every creak of the timbers sounded like claws on wood. Every whisper of wind against the shutters brought the river back to me. I rolled over, pulled the blankets up to my chin, tried to count my breaths.
A soft knock broke the quiet.
I sat up. "Yes?"
The door eased open. Tomas filled the frame. He didn't speak at first, just looked at me in the half-light. His eyes searched my face in a way that made my pulse skip.
"Can't sleep?"
I shook my head. "Not really."
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "I figured as much."
I watched him cross the room, his movements unhurried. He stopped at the foot of my bed, resting a hand on the carved post. "You did well tonight. Better than I expected."
"That almost sounds like a compliment."
"It is."
The words shouldn't have warmed me, but they did. I pulled my knees up under the blankets, unsure if I wanted him to stay or go. He didn't give me the choice.
"I'll stay here tonight," he said.
I blinked. "Why?"
"In case you wake up from whatever's still running circles in your head. And because I'd rather be where I can hear you if something's wrong."
The logic was solid, but the way he said it carried something else. Something I couldn't name.
He dragged the chair from the corner and set it near the bed. Not too close, but close enough that the steady weight of his presence filled the room. He leaned back, one ankle resting on his knee, as if settling in for the night.
"You don't have to—" I started.
"I want to." He cut me off. "Sleep, little fox."
There was no heat in his voice this time, no sharp edge. Just quiet certainty. And somehow, that was more disarming than anything else.
I eased back down under the blankets, my eyes never leaving him. He didn't look away. For a long moment, it felt like the only thing in the room was the space between us.
The fire cracked softly. My eyelids grew heavier. I told myself it was fine, that it didn't matter if he stayed because he wasn't close enough to touch me. But the truth sat warmer and stranger in my chest.
He was here. And I didn't hate it.
I closed my eyes, and the last thing I felt was his gaze still on me. Watching. Waiting.