~LYRA'S POV~
Mira found me before anyone else did.
I was in the east corridor heading toward the training yard out of habit more than intention when she appeared from the direction of the archives with purpose in her step and something careful in her expression.
"Come with me," she said. "Before the morning gets away from us."
Something in her tone told me not to ask why in the corridor. So I followed.
She took me through two passages I hadn't used before, down a set of stairs that went below the main level of the packhouse, into a room that smelled of old paper and stone. The pack archives. Floor-to-ceiling shelving on every wall, documents rolled and stacked and bound in leather, the accumulated record of everything Silverclaw had ever been.
