A few days passed without anything terrible happening.
These days, that counted as good news.
The new patrol groups settled into their routines. The elite warriors continued covering the more dangerous sections of the border, while the rest of us worked alongside them on the safer routes.
There were no new Shadowfen sightings.
No strange attacks.
No emergency bells.
No mysterious howls in the middle of the night.
Silvercrest slowly began to breathe again.
But the four missing wolves were still gone.
No bodies.
No messages.
No tracks leading to them.
Nothing.
Search parties continued going out whenever Alpha Roran or Beta Garrick believed there was somewhere new to check. They searched the eastern forest, followed the river, checked old trails, caves, abandoned shelters, and even places that hadn't been used by the pack in years.
They always returned without them.
At first, everyone had talked about the missing patrol constantly.
Every meal.
Every gathering.
Every shift change.
People whispered theories to one another.
Maybe Shadowfen had taken them.
Maybe they had crossed the river.
Maybe they were injured somewhere.
Maybe they had been captured.
Maybe they were dead.
After a few days, though, people started speaking about them less.
Not because anyone had forgotten.
Silvercrest was simply learning how to continue while not knowing.
I understood that better than most.
Sometimes there wasn't an answer.
Sometimes life just expected you to wake up the next morning anyway.
So I did.
I patrolled when I was assigned.
I trained when I had time.
And when I wasn't doing either of those things, I worked with Lysandra.
It was almost normal.
Almost.
"You're cutting those too small."
I looked down.
The dried leaves beneath my knife were practically crumbs.
"Oh."
Lysandra sighed from across the table.
"You're supposed to chop them, Elara. Not punish them."
"I wasn't."
"You murdered that poor plant."
I looked at the pile.
Maybe I had.
"Sorry."
"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to the feverfew."
I stared at her.
"Do you want me to apologize to a plant?"
"No."
She paused.
"Although it deserves one."
I smiled and reached for another bundle.
The healer's hut smelled strongly of dried herbs that morning.
Mira had gone to collect fresh water, leaving Lysandra and me alone with several baskets of plants that needed to be prepared and stored.
It was quiet work.
I liked quiet work.
It gave me something to do with my hands while my mind wandered.
Unfortunately, my mind had been wandering a lot lately.
To the missing wolves.
To the symbol.
To the tree where the marking had disappeared.
And sometimes...
To Kieran.
I hated that last one.
My wolf didn't.
You don't hate it.
"Quiet."
Lysandra looked up.
"What?"
"Nothing."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Wolf?"
I nodded.
"Being annoying?"
"Very."
Lysandra smiled knowingly and returned to her work.
I decided not to ask what that smile meant.
A few minutes passed.
Then Lysandra spoke again.
"Are you participating?"
I continued chopping.
"In what?"
She stopped.
I looked up.
She was staring at me.
"What?"
"You don't know?"
"Know what?"
"The tournament."
My knife stopped.
"What tournament?"
Lysandra slowly put down the bundle in her hands.
"You really don't know."
"No."
"How?"
I shrugged.
"Nobody told me."
She stared at me for several seconds.
Then she muttered something under her breath.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"It didn't sound like nothing."
"It was an observation."
"About?"
"How remarkably talented this pack is at forgetting to tell you things."
I almost laughed.
"That's nothing new."
Lysandra didn't find it as amusing as I did.
She leaned back.
"The Luna announced it yesterday."
I frowned.
"Announced what?"
"A Wolf Warrior Tournament."
I blinked.
"A what?"
"A tournament."
"I understood that part."
Lysandra gave me a look.
I smiled.
"Why are we having a tournament now?"
That seemed like terrible timing.
Four wolves were missing.
Shadowfen was becoming increasingly suspicious.
The borders were being watched more carefully than they had been in years.
And the Luna wanted everyone fighting each other for entertainment?
Lysandra must have seen the confusion on my face.
"It's not what you're thinking."
"What am I thinking?"
"That everyone has finally lost their minds."
I hesitated.
"Maybe."
She laughed.
"The Luna proposed it because of everything that's been happening."
That didn't make much more sense.
I waited.
Lysandra continued.
"The entire pack has been under pressure. Warriors are exhausted. Patrollers are constantly watching over their shoulders. Families are worried. Even the pups have noticed something is wrong."
Her expression softened.
"People need something else to think about."
I slowly nodded.
That made more sense.
"The tournament is entertainment?"
"Mostly."
"Mostly?"
"There will be prizes."
Of course there would be.
"What kind?"
"I don't know all the details yet."
She picked up another bundle of herbs.
"But it's meant to be friendly."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Wolves fighting each other is friendly?"
"According to warriors, yes."
"That explains a lot."
Lysandra laughed.
Apparently, the Luna's idea was simple.
Give Silvercrest something to look forward to.
Something that had nothing to do with missing wolves, border disputes, or Shadowfen.
For a little while, the pack could gather for something other than an emergency meeting.
There would be food.
Music.
Families could watch.
The younger wolves could cheer for their favorites.
And anyone in the pack could enter.
That part surprised me.
"Anyone?"
"Anyone."
"Warriors?"
"Yes."
"Patrollers?"
"Yes."
"Omegas?"
"Yes."
I looked at her suspiciously.
"Unranked wolves?"
Lysandra stopped working.
"Elara."
"What?"
"You know the answer."
I looked down at the herbs.
"Anyone."
"Exactly."
That felt strange.
Most competitions in Silvercrest weren't technically restricted by rank, but there was always an understanding about who belonged where.
Warriors competed with warriors.
Ranked families sat near the front.
Everyone else watched.
This sounded different.
"The Luna specifically insisted that rank shouldn't determine who can enter," Lysandra added.
I looked up.
"Really?"
"Really."
"Huh."
Lysandra smiled.
"Interested?"
"No."
The answer came immediately.
She laughed.
"What?"
"You didn't even think about it."
"I did."
"For half a second."
"That was enough."
"Why?"
I shrugged.
"Why would I join?"
"Why wouldn't you?"
"Because I'm not a warrior."
"Neither are many of the wolves entering."
"I don't compete."
"You spar."
"That's different."
"How?"
"Nobody watches."
Lysandra gave me a look.
I realized the problem with my argument.
"Except Callen," I added.
"And me."
"Fine. Usually nobody watches."
She smiled.
I returned to chopping the herbs.
The tournament didn't sound terrible.
I just couldn't imagine myself standing in the middle of the training grounds while the entire pack watched me fight someone.
The thought alone made my stomach uncomfortable.
I had spent years learning how not to be noticed.
Joining a tournament seemed like volunteering to destroy that skill.
You should do it.
My wolf's voice appeared immediately.
"No."
Lysandra glanced at me.
"Wolf again?"
"Yes."
"What does she think?"
"That I should participate."
Lysandra's smile widened.
"Smart wolf."
"Don't encourage her."
I like Lysandra.
"Of course you do."
By midday, I discovered just how badly I'd underestimated the tournament.
Everyone was talking about it.
When Mira returned, she already had a list of wolves she thought would reach the later rounds.
Two younger healers were arguing over which elite warrior was strongest.
Outside, I could hear wolves discussing possible matchups.
For the first time in days, the conversations weren't about Shadowfen.
Nobody was whispering about blood found near the eastern ridge.
Nobody was wondering whether the missing patrol was dead.
People were laughing.
Actually laughing.
I hadn't realized how much that sound had disappeared from Silvercrest until it came back.
Maybe the Luna understood something the rest of us didn't.
The danger hadn't disappeared.
The patrols would continue.
The searches would continue.
The border would still be guarded.
But fear couldn't be the only thing holding a pack together.
Eventually, people needed a reason to breathe.
Even if only for an afternoon.
I carried a basket toward one of the shelves.
"So who's participating?"
Lysandra glanced at me.
"I thought you weren't interested."
"I'm not."
"Then why are you asking?"
"Curiosity."
"Ah."
She smiled.
"The first symptom."
I rolled my eyes.
"Lysandra."
She laughed.
"I know Callen is."
That didn't surprise me.
"Of course he is."
"Kieran probably will."
My hand paused on the shelf.
Only for a second.
Unfortunately, Lysandra noticed.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
I continued arranging the jars.
"And?"
"And what?"
"Anyone else?"
She smiled.
"Interesting."
"What?"
"Nothing."
I stared at her.
She looked far too pleased with herself.
"I asked who else was participating."
"And I answered."
"You mentioned two people."
"Two very relevant people."
I knew exactly what she was doing.
"I'm going back to work."
"Excellent idea."
I turned away.
My wolf was laughing.
You want to watch him.
"I want you to stop talking."
Maybe you'll fight him again.
"No."
You knocked him down last time.
"That was an accident."
Was it?
I paused.
My eyes dropped to my hands.
That question still bothered me.
I hadn't forgotten what happened during our spar.
The sudden force.
Kieran losing his footing.
Callen's shocked expression.
Lysandra pulling me aside afterward.
There are things inside us we never imagine we have the ability to use.
I still didn't understand what she'd meant.
And I wasn't sure I wanted to.
Across the room, Lysandra watched me for a moment.
Her expression had changed.
The teasing disappeared.
She knew exactly what I was thinking about.
But she didn't say anything.
Instead, she returned to grinding herbs.
I was grateful for that.
That evening, I walked back toward my cabin.
Silvercrest felt different.
Small groups had gathered outside the pack house.
Someone had already started taking tournament registrations.
Young wolves were pretending to fight each other with sticks.
A few warriors were loudly arguing over who would win.
For the first time since the patrol disappeared, excitement had replaced fear.
Not completely.
The guards were still there.
Elite warriors still watched the forest.
The four missing wolves were still missing.
Nothing about our situation had truly changed.
But for one evening, Silvercrest remembered that being alive was more than surviving the next patrol.
I slowed near the training grounds.
A notice had been placed beside the entrance.
SILVERCREST WOLF WARRIOR TOURNAMENT
Registration open to all pack members.
I stared at it.
Do it.
"No."
Why not?
"Because I don't want to."
You're curious.
"Curiosity isn't a reason."
You're afraid.
I frowned.
"I'm not afraid."
Then enter.
I stared at the notice.
That was unfair.
My wolf knew it.
I could feel her satisfaction.
"I'm going home."
I turned away.
Coward.
I stopped.
"You are incredibly annoying."
She laughed.
I continued walking.
I wasn't joining.
Absolutely not.
Probably.
Maybe.
I glanced over my shoulder once at the tournament notice.
Then I kept walking.
For now, I had herbs to prepare tomorrow, patrol assignments to worry about, four missing wolves nobody had found, and far too many questions about the forest.
A tournament was the last thing I needed.
At least, that was what I told myself.
But somewhere between the training grounds and my cabin, I found myself wondering who I would be matched against if I entered.
And that was the first sign that Lysandra had already won.