Dusk didn't change Grimridge's walls.
It changed its instincts.
Lanterns came alive along the inner corridors one by one, turning stone into warm shadows and making every corner feel like it could hide a decision. The pack house settled into that narrow hour where routines looked normal to anyone who didn't know how to read tension, yet every wolf inside could feel the pressure tightening under their skin. After the wrong wax and the lock tool, after the runner's confession and Cassian's vow to cut the thread before it moved again, the air had taken on a sharpness that made even breathing feel deliberate.
Sable moved along the safe route anyway.
