Opal's POV
The night air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth as Opal walked through the pack grounds. Her footsteps were light but determined, her mind an overwhelming storm of emotions that refused to settle. She needed space. She needed air. She needed answers.
The training fields stretched behind her, warriors moving through their drills, their voices echoing into the night. This place had been her entire life. Her home.
And if she chose Kael, she would have to leave it behind.
Her throat tightened at the thought.
She felt Kael before she heard him. His presence was a steady thing—something that had always kept her grounded, even when she didn't realize she needed it. He didn't speak right away, just walked beside her in easy silence, his silver-blue eyes flickering in the dim light.
Finally, he asked, "You okay?"
Opal let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Not even close."
Kael didn't push, didn't pry. He just kept pace with her, waiting.
