I'd woken to distant thunder—the rumble of horses at full gallop, not storm. My head aches as if I had been sleeping on shattered rocks. It takes me a second to realize that I'm lying prone in the soft grass of the meadow outside the eastern gates of Silverclaw; Kael's arms holding me close. The air is brisk, dawn's pale light breaking over the horizon.
Out there, just beyond this wide meadow, the rest of the pack and our rogue allies get ready for a new day of fighting — or maybe of peace. But for the moment, Kael's steady encouragement keeps me rooted as I am. My cheek is on his shoulder; he breathes slowly, long breaths. A bond thrums through us, a comforting vibration that says: you are not alone, we are in this together.
