Cassian did not take the long route back to the infirmary.
He took the route that cut through the spine of the pack house, the corridors where the walls were thickest and the traffic was highest, because hiding the claim would have turned it into rumor, and rumor was where councils survived. He led Sable with a firm grip around her wrist, not dragging her, not coddling her, guiding her like an alpha guiding something that was now part of his territory. The mark at her throat throbbed with every heartbeat, hot and sharp, and the bond beneath it pulsed like a second circulation layered on top of her own.
