Stephano's POV
The first crack in Deephowl's calm came at breakfast.
It wasn't a shout or a fight. It was the whispered conversations when I entered the lower hall, like breath pulled back, hesitant to speak out.
Bowls clinked. Benches scraped. Then, slowly, voices returned - quieter than they had any right to be after a victory.
They were afraid again.
Not of Cassian. Not of the cave. Of what Aurora's power meant, and of what her power might draw to our borders.
I kept my face neutral as I crossed the room. An Alpha couldn't look like he was listening too hard, even when every instinct screamed to do exactly that. I nodded to the nearest table, accepted a brief salute from a patrol captain, and took my seat at the head bench. Food appeared in front of me - meat, bread, bitter tea - But, I lost my appetite.
Marek slid into the seat on my right without asking. He didn't bother with greetings.
"Scouts are back," he said lowly. "Eastern line."
"And?" I asked.
