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Just as he turned to leave, a familiar presence caught his attention. Arken and Seren stood nearby, silent witnesses to his departure. Draken hesitated for only a moment before stepping toward them. He had not expected to feel so protective of Seren so quickly, yet here he was.

Without thinking, he placed a firm but brief hand on her shoulder before pulling her into a short hug. "Until we meet again, daughter."

Seren stiffened, her eyes widening in surprise. It took her a moment before she hesitantly hugged him back, the warmth of the gesture lingering even as he stepped away.

Satisfied, Draken turned and walked toward the waiting cars. The remaining warriors filed in behind him, their movements precise and practiced. Engines rumbled to life as the convoy began moving, heading toward the airstrip where the chartered plane awaited them.

Draken leaned back against the seat, inhaling deeply. Soon, he would be home. Soon, he would see Astrid again.

And yet, a part of him would miss this place and the child who would be his daughter.

Hagan

At the training grounds, Hagan and his friends gathered in their usual spot. Airlia was with them now, and Hagan had made sure of it. He felt compelled to protect her at all costs. He was going to be Highclaw someday and protecting the weak was his job.

When they ran laps, he kept pace with her, adjusting his speed when she lagged behind. When she hesitated before entering the classroom, he walked beside her, ensuring she never had to step inside alone.

One afternoon, while they sat beneath the old yew tree during a break, he placed his lunch between them and nudged it toward her. "You barely eat, Lia. Try this."

She hesitated before finally taking a bite, offering him a small, tentative smile in return.

Renna, always eager, chimed in. "You know, you should sit with us more often. Maybe then Hagan would stop staring so much."

Hagan threw a leaf at her. "I do not stare."

Airlia looked down, but a quiet laugh escaped her lips. Even Dain, usually indifferent, found himself drawn to her presence. "You should shift with us," he suggested one day. "Running might help."

Airlia's face grew sombre. "My wolf has been in hibernation since the attack on my caravan."

A silence settled between them. Even at their young age, they understood what that meant. A wolf refusing to emerge was a deep wound, one not easily healed.

Hagan's chest tightened. "Then we'll wait," he said simply. "She'll come back when she's ready."

Only Veyr remained silent and watchful, his gaze unreadable.

The week that followed was filled with small moments that felt larger than they should.

Airlia, the young girl brought into the tribe as an asylum seeker, had begun to settle in. Her unusual bright grey eyes and golden hair made her a subject of whispers. She did not speak much, but she watched—always watching. Observing. Learning. And smiling.

One afternoon, the group of friends played a game of sticks near the training fields when a deep voice rang out.

"Boys!"

Vir stood at the edge of the field; his stance relaxed but firm. Dain looked up first, eyes widening, before sprinting toward his father.

Vir caught him in a one-armed hug, ruffling his hair. "I was looking for you."

Dain beamed, then turned back to Hagan, grinning. "Your dad's looking for you too."

Hagan rushed off before he could finish the sentence. Draken and the warriors had finally returned.

In the heart of the township, Lunara Astrid was busy churning butter, preparing ingredients for a cake when she heard her name being called. She froze, heart hammering, then abandoned her work and ran.

The sight of Draken, standing tall, dust-covered but whole, sent a shockwave of relief through her.

She threw herself into his arms, and he caught her effortlessly, lifting her off the ground as their lips met in a hungry, desperate kiss. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands twisting into his hair as he pressed her against him, their bodies flush.

Their foreheads met; warm breaths mingled. Then—