Page 72 of Salt Between the Wolves

No sound had disturbed him, no alarm had been raised, and the fortress remained quiet beyond the walls.

Everything was exactly as it should have been, and yet he found himself fully awake.

A faint frown touched his brow as the unease remained, though it felt neither like fear nor danger but rather something harder to define, an absence, as though something familiar had quietly shifted while he slept.

The sensation made little sense.

He closed his eyes briefly and turned his attention toward the bond.

For months it had become a background presence he rarely examined directly, and even when he ignored it, some part of him always remained aware of Eira. The connection was no longer surprising, existing beneath everything else with a constancy that felt as natural as breathing.

Now, however, it felt strange and distant, not broken or weakened but undeniably different.

Soren frowned as the feeling resisted explanation.

Eventually his thoughts drifted toward the previous evening, recalling the stables, the brief conversation, and the look in Eira's eyes.

She had seemed calmer than she had in weeks, not happier or healed, but calmer.

Perhaps that was all this was.

The explanation settled easily into place, suggesting that she had finally found some measure of peace.

The weeks following Riven's death had hollowed something out inside her, and anyone could see that. Perhaps the bond was simply reflecting the change, or perhaps the restless grief that had followed her for so long was finally beginning to ease.

The explanation wasn't entirely convincing, but it was reasonable, and reasonable explanations were usually the correct ones.

By the time the first light touched the eastern peaks, the patrol had assembled.

Horses stamped impatiently in the cold while frost clung to saddles and cloaks, and several scouts exchanged quiet remarks as final preparations were completed.

Soren mounted without ceremony.

The unease remained, quiet and persistent, like a stone lodged somewhere beneath his ribs.

Kael approached on horseback as the gates opened before them, and for a moment his gaze lingered on Soren.

"You look tired."

"I slept."

The answer came automatically.

Kael didn't appear convinced, though fortunately he chose not to pursue the matter.

The patrol rode west.

Morning sunlight gradually spread across the mountains, turning distant ridges silver beneath the growing light while snow glittered along the slopes and pine forests stretched across the valleys below.

Ordinarily, Soren enjoyed these rides because the mountains had always helped him think.

Today they only made it easier to notice that something was wrong.

As the hours passed and they traveled farther from Ironfang, the unease began to change.

What had first felt like a distraction gradually became irritation before shifting into something else entirely, something he struggled to name.

Several times he found himself looking back toward the eastern horizon without realizing it, and each time he forced his attention elsewhere, focusing on reports, routes, weather, or anything else that might occupy his thoughts.