They did not give them time to breathe.
That was the elders' true talent, not cruelty itself, but timing. They waited for a victory to settle into bones, waited for relief to loosen defenses, then struck where the body was softest. The dominance trial had ended with the chamber's silence bending toward Cassian, but silence was not surrender, and the council knew exactly how to turn a public loss into a private wound.
Cassian led Sable away from the council wing without slowing, his hand locked around hers with firm certainty. The corridor outside the chamber felt narrower than it had before, not because the stone had moved but because the air had changed. Wolves gathered in tight clusters, whispering too low to be overheard, then fell silent as Cassian passed. Heads dipped. Knees bent. Not all of them, but enough to matter. The claim had re-ordered the pack's instincts, and instinct was the only law Grimridge obeyed without argument.
Sable felt their attention like heat on skin.
