Page 235 of Salt Between the Wolves

"One village in the eastern valleys had been completely cut off," he said, glancing toward the sea before continuing, "and there were children there, elderly people, and families who had no chance of surviving another week without supplies."

Eira could already sense the shape of the story as he added that at the same time a patrol had failed to return from the northern ridge, and the wind carried the silence between them as he described how the council argued for two days.

Leander almost smiled as he spoke of it, and Eira could imagine it perfectly: voices raised, maps spread across tables, and people convinced that only they understood the right answer, with some believing the patrol could still be alive while others insisted the village came first.

"And Soren?" she asked.

Leander looked at her before answering that Soren had grown tired of waiting, and although the answer came simply, it took a moment to settle.

"He wasn't part of the council, and no one had asked for his opinion," Leander added with a faint smile, noting that this had rarely stopped him.

Despite herself, Eira smiled as he continued, explaining that Soren left before anyone reached a decision, loading supplies onto sleds and riding east while the wind whistled through the stone arches overhead.

"And people followed him?" she asked.

"They chose to," Leander replied immediately, explaining that there had been no order, no title, and no authority, and that they simply looked at the young wolf who was already moving while everyone else was still debating and decided they would rather ride with him.

The words lingered between them as he went on to say that Soren reached the village, that food and medicine arrived, and that the children survived, while Eira waited because she knew there was always another half to stories like this.

Leander remained silent long enough for the dread to return before continuing in a quieter voice that when the weather finally cleared, they found the patrol, and although he did not need to say anything more, she already knew they were dead.

The waves broke against the cliffs below, indifferent as ever, and for several moments neither of them spoke until Eira finally looked at Leander and said that he had made the right choice.

"I believe he did," Leander answered without hesitation, adding that so did most people who knew that story.

"Then why did it stay with him?" she asked.

Leander rested one hand on the cold stone as he explained that Soren never measured his decisions by whether they were right, but instead measured them by who still died, and the words settled between them with unexpected weight.

He went on to say that most leaders eventually learn there are losses no one can prevent, but that Soren learned something different, and as Eira waited, he explained that Soren convinced himself that if he had been faster, argued harder, or found some third path no one else could see, then perhaps everyone would have lived.

Leander slowly shook his head as the wind swept across the lighthouse once more, adding that Soren spent years carrying the weight of men whose deaths had never truly been his responsibility.

Eira lowered her eyes, not because the story was tragic, but because it sounded exactly like the man she knew, not the Alpha or the war leader, but simply Soren, a man who had spent most of his life believing that every life he could not save was somehow his own failure.

For the first time, Eira began to understand that his need for control had never grown out of pride, but instead had grown out of guilt, and she realized that guilt was far more difficult to escape than arrogance.

For a while neither of them spoke as the wind swept steadily across the lighthouse and the sea stretched endlessly in every direction, and Eira found herself staring at the horizon simply because it was easier than looking at Leander, whose words lingered in her mind while the certainty behind them continued to surprise her, since most people eventually chose a side, whereas Leander never seemed interested in doing that.

Eventually she asked,

"What story?"

Leander rested both hands on the stone parapet and looked out toward the water before answering,

"The part where everything became complicated."

A humorless smile touched his lips as he added,

"As though it wasn't already."

Eira waited while he searched for the right place to begin, sensing that what he was about to say mattered more than the simplicity of his tone suggested.

"When Soren arrived in Ironfang, he spent years earning certainty."

The statement felt strangely specific, and she could not help but ask,

"What does that mean?"