Soraya's POV
The next morning came too fast.
Ethan stood near the palace entrance, his posture as straight and unreadable as ever, giving Thorne a few last instructions. The air was cold, sharp with the scent of pine and lingering mist. Behind him, the helicopter waited—its blades already spinning, cutting through the stillness of Silverfang.
When he turned to me, his voice was calm but distant. "Are you ready?"
I nodded. Words didn't come easily anymore.
He offered his hand—not out of affection, but as a quiet gesture of protection—and guided me toward the waiting aircraft. The soldiers standing nearby lowered their heads respectfully, but I could still feel the weight of their gazes.
I couldn't believe I was actually leaving Silverfang.
Leaving—but only for a while. Ethan had made it clear this was just a short trip to the city, a chance to find answers about Maya before returning. Silverfang wasn't behind us—it was waiting.
