SERAPHINA’S POV
The sky was already bruising toward evening by the time training wrapped at Nightfang the next day.
Sweat clung to my skin, my muscles humming with the pleasant ache of exertion.
It still felt faintly miraculous, this new equilibrium.
Alina was fully present now, settled and steady, her presence no longer overwhelming but strong beneath the surface.
Training had shifted to reflect that.
Christian still oversaw the broader structure, watching closely and correcting when needed, but when it came to my wolf, to the specifics of my form and balance, Kieran had mainly taken over.
He had buried himself in every scrap of research on silver wolves the archive in the basement had to offer and more: old journals, fragmented records, half-mythic accounts.
He was methodical, patient, and endlessly attentive.
As for our new…dynamic. Not much had changed.
Except that everything had changed.
