The fire crackled low, sending sparks drifting upward like small stars trying to escape the night. I had not planned to come here after the hunt. The palace had welcomed us back with torches and servants, the king's voice booming from the great hall about the day's kills, nobles laughing too loudly at jokes that were not funny. I had slipped away before the wine made anyone bold enough to speak to me directly. My body still carried the memory of Finn's hands in the cave, gentle and searching, but the quiet after had left me restless. The echo lingered too, a shadow at the edge of every thought: the ancient omega falling because the alphas could not stand as one. I needed something solid. Something that did not bend or dream.
Gavin found me first.
