Victory did not feel like celebration.
It felt like a shift in the air before lightning struck.
The morning after the vote, the compound was quieter than Selene expected. Not hostile. Not welcoming.
Watchful.
The kind of silence that measured you differently now.
She stood on the balcony outside Silas's chamber, the early sun stretching pale gold across the mountains. Mist clung to the forest below, drifting between trees like ghosts reluctant to leave.
Behind her, the children were still asleep.
For once.
Silas stepped out beside her.
"You didn't sleep," he said.
She didn't turn. "Neither did you."
His presence was steady at her side—warm, controlled, powerful without pressing. The difference from the first night she'd stood in his territory was undeniable.
Then, she had been prey.
Now, she was something else entirely.
"You shifted the pack," he said quietly.
"I exposed a fracture," she corrected. "That isn't the same thing."
