Page 21 of Salt Between the Wolves

He had felt relief.

As though surrendering control might have been easier than maintaining it.

The realization settled heavily in his chest.

Control was not merely a habit he had cultivated over the years. It was responsibility. It was the foundation upon which everything else rested—the difference between a stable pack and a fractured one, between leadership and impulse, between survival and chaos.

Everything he had built depended on it.

And yet, for one brief moment beside that wall, he had wanted nothing more than to let it go.

Soren stared down at the water gathering along the edge of the basin.

That could not happen again.

The decision itself came easily enough. What troubled him was the lack of certainty behind it.

By the time dawn finally reached the mountains, he had already begun altering his routine.

The changes were subtle at first, so gradual that he barely noticed them. He took breakfast earlier than usual, reviewed reports in a different chamber, and found reasons to avoid the eastern courtyard altogether. When a messenger mentioned activity near the stables, he chose another route without giving the decision much thought.

Only later did he recognize the pattern for what it was.

He was no longer avoiding Eira herself.

Instead, he was avoiding the places where he might encounter her.

The distinction should have reassured him. It should have felt like proof that he still possessed some measure of control over the situation.

Instead, it felt uncomfortably like failure wearing a different face.

The morning passed in reports.

For several hours, Soren managed to lose himself in numbers, routes, and inventories. Supply ledgers required attention, and patrol schedules needed adjusting before the next storm reached the western passes. By midday, the familiar rhythm of responsibility had begun to settle over him again, smoothing some of the sharper edges left behind by a sleepless night.

For a while, it almost worked.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Enter.”

Kael stepped inside with a rolled map tucked beneath one arm.

“There’s a change to the western patrol.”

Soren didn't look up immediately.

“What kind of change?”

Kael crossed the room and set the map on the table between them.

“An additional rider.”

Soren reached for the patrol roster, and his eyes found the name almost instantly.

Eira.

The reaction came before he had time to think.