The morning was cold and damp, typical for late autumn in Oregon. Mist hung low over the road, and wet pine needles released the sharp scent of resin as Ithilien and Marco drove toward Dorian Parker's house. The forest surrounding Eugene had something calming about it—dense, dark green, heavy with moisture.
As Ithilien watched the trees slide past the window, she felt the emotions of the previous night slowly settling into something more orderly.
The night had been long.
But morning brought something she knew well—cool, practical reason.
She still had no answers to the questions that had opened yesterday. She didn't know what to do with the bond, with Ace, or with what had happened between her and Kidd in the kitchen. All of it was too large, too painful to solve in a single moment.
Fenrir was different.
Fenrir was a problem that could be studied.
For now, that was enough.
Dorian Parker's house stood at the edge of the forest, set back from the road as if it had deliberately withdrawn from the rest of the town. It was large, built from dark wood that years of rain and sun had turned silver-gray.
A wide porch stretched along the front, lined with heavy wooden chairs carved from thick planks. Tall pines surrounded the house, their branches whispering softly in the wind.
Ithilien smelled the wolves before she even opened the car door.
Young.Strong.Restless.
The door opened before they could knock. Carter stood in the doorway, tall and fair-haired, carrying the same slightly clumsy enthusiasm he had shown the day before in town. His eyes brightened instantly.
"Doctor!" he called with a wide grin. "And the silver wolf!"
"You see?" she muttered under her breath. "Told you it would be loud."
Behind Carter appeared Dorian Parker.
The old alpha wore a red-and-black flannel shirt and worn jeans. His dark hair had turned gray at the temples, but his posture remained straight and steady, like a man who had spent his life among trees and storms.
"Come in," he said warmly, shaking Marco's hand. "The boys have been making chaos here since morning."
The house was spacious and warm inside. Wooden beams crossed the ceiling, and the floor creaked softly beneath their steps.
The living room pulsed with heat from the fireplace and the chaotic energy of young wolves who had clearly decided that Ithilien's presence was the most interesting event of the week.
A coffee table had been shoved aside. A pillow lay abandoned on the floor.In the corner, a television flashed bright colors from a racing game the twins and Carter had apparently been playing since dawn.
Christian turned first, leaning over the back of the couch and lifting a hand dramatically.
"Hey, hey! Welcome to the better part of the pack!"
"The faster part," Zeke added with a grin.
Carter twisted around from the floor, controller in hand, and gave Ithilien a shameless once-over.
"You should train us," he said. "After a few runs like that, I bet I could chase you all night."
Ithilien laughed so suddenly she had to catch the back of a chair.
"You're about twenty years too young to even think about that."
Carter lifted his brows as if she had just insulted him deeply.
"Since when does age matter?" he asked gravely. "I like experienced she-wolves."
"Shut up, Carter. Your turn," Thiago said, pushing the controller back into his hands. "And stop flirting—you're losing."
"It's stress," Carter muttered, turning back to the game.
Zeke slid off the couch and approached Ithilien. The wild tension from yesterday was gone. He looked younger now—just a boy trying to recover from something that had shaken him badly.
"I should apologize," he said with a crooked smile. "I didn't mean to yell at you like that. Something just… fried my brain."
Ithilien shrugged lightly.
"It's fine. I didn't take a single word seriously."
She paused, then added with faint amusement.
"And I'm sorry too. Maybe you are a pup, but I didn't have to say it out loud."
Zeke laughed quietly.
"Fair."
Christian leaned back on the couch, studying her with interest.
"So where did you come from, exactly? Are there more silver wolves like you in Montana?"
Colton added innocently,
"Because if there are, maybe we should visit. Wag our tails a little."
Ithilien lifted an eyebrow.
"Who am I to stop you?"
"You hear that?" Carter called from the floor. "Official invitation."
"First learn how to flirt," Thiago muttered.
"First you stop cheating!"
The room filled again with laughter and teasing. They compared running speeds, argued about hunting routes, and tried—without much success—to coax stories about Ithilien's former pack out of her.
She answered with calm amusement, letting them joke while quietly keeping the conversation within safe limits. To them she was fascinating. But also something else. Like an older sister, perhaps. Someone who could silence them with one sentence and laugh with them the next. And for a while, surrounded by noise and youthful energy, Ithilien almost forgot everything that had happened the night before.
The front door opened. The sound was soft, almost lost beneath the chatter. But the cold air that slipped inside carried the scent of wet forest—and wolves. Several heads turned.
Ithilien had sensed them earlier.
Three familiar notes.
And one new.
Adrahil came first, heavy and deep like dark water beneath ice. Beside him the steady warmth of Levi, broad and grounded as an old oak. Then Byra—soft, warm, faintly sweet.
And the fourth scent…
Light.
Bright.
Alive.
A child.
Kidd stepped inside first, brushing rain from his jacket. Levi followed behind him, tall and calm as always, and beside him stood Byra holding the hand of a small girl in a green coat.
The atmosphere shifted. It was just a subtle movement in the air, like the wind changing direction before a storm. The older wolves felt it. The younger ones did not.
"Oh!" Carter lifted his head.
"Start playing, idiot," Thiago muttered, already standing.
Zeke hopped down from the couch.
"Alpha."
"All good?" Kidd replied briefly.
His gaze swept the room and settled on Marco.
"Doctor."
Marco nodded.
"Kidd."
The greeting was calm and neutral—like men who had already accepted they were working on the same problem.
Kidd did not look at Ithilien. Or at least he pretended not to. Levi, however, noticed everything and he smiled slightly and stepped toward the couch.
"Ithilien," he said casually. "I don't think you've met yet."
He gently nudged the little girl forward.
"This is Byra. And this little hurricane is Hayati."
The girl looked at Ithilien with fearless curiosity. Her bright eyes widened slightly, and she stepped forward without hesitation. Ithilien felt the change immediately.
Tauriel stirred beneath her skin—not warning, not tension.
Interest.
The scent of a child was warm and clean, untouched by the heavier instincts of adult wolves. Her expression softened.
Hayati stopped in front of her and wrinkled her nose.
"You smell nice," she announced.
Someone in the room snorted with laughter.
Ithilien raised an eyebrow.
"You too."
The girl tilted her head.
"What's your name?"
"Ithilien Greenan."
Hayati straightened proudly.
"I'm Hayati."
"Nice to meet you."
Behind them, Kidd had already turned toward Dorian and Marco. Levi joined them, leaving to continue the conversation as if nothing else in the room existed.
Byra watched Hayati for a moment and then laughed softly.
"O-oh," she said. "She likes you already."
Hayati, meanwhile, had become fascinated with Ithilien's hair.
"Can I braid it?"
Ithilien touched the tie at the back of her head as if remembering it only now.
"You can try."
She sat down on the couch and let her hair fall loose. Pale strands spilled down her back in a soft wave, catching the warm light from the fireplace.
As Hayati carefully began dividing the hair into sections, the faint scent of jasmine drifted into the room.
It wasn't strong but it spread quietly through the air like a thin mist.
Several heads lifted from their conversations. And although Kidd continued speaking with Dorian and Marco, his shoulders tightened just slightly more than a discussion about a virus should have required.