Page 26 of Salt Between the Wolves

Soren looked up from the reports.

“The western route?”

Kael nodded.

“You still haven't named a field commander.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The omission had not been accidental. Everyone knew Soren had originally intended to lead the patrol himself. The route crossed difficult terrain and passed close enough to contested territory that experience mattered.

Under normal circumstances, there would have been no discussion at all.

He would have gone.

The realization settled heavily between them as Kael waited in patient silence.

Soren's gaze drifted toward the map spread across the table. The route was familiar—safe enough, demanding but manageable. There was no reason a capable second couldn't lead it.

His eyes moved across the roster.

Several names stood out immediately: veteran hunters, experienced patrol leaders, wolves who had traveled the western route dozens of times.

Then his gaze settled elsewhere.

Riven.

The choice made sense. Riven knew the terrain, the patrol respected him, and he needed opportunities to command if he was ever going to become more than a talented hunter.

The reasoning felt solid and responsible, perhaps even necessary.

Soren leaned back slightly.

“Riven.”

Kael's expression remained unreadable.

“Riven?”

“He'll lead.”

A brief silence followed, not one of disagreement but consideration.

“That's a significant responsibility.”

“He's ready.”

“Perhaps.”

The answer carried just enough hesitation to irritate him.

Soren looked up.

“You disagree?”

“No.”

Kael folded his arms.