The journey to Blackthorn was uneventful.
There were no caravans in need of help. The main road however was covered with thick mist reminding travelers to guide their horses away from deep ravines. The air was heavy, as if it carried sorrow and anger.
Therese had stayed behind as acting steward, with Mira, Eira, and Marla taking over storehouse and kitchen duties. The manor and Station One were under Tara's steady hand. For the first time in months, Greystone would run without its master.
At Blackthorn's gates, they were met by Kim, his boots muddy, his face lined with wind and sun.
"Alpha," Kim said, bowing slightly. "My leave's nearly over. I'm ready to return—if you'll still have me."
Shannon's lips lifted in a rare, genuine smile. "Blackthorn is yours as much as mine. Welcome home, Beta."
The heavy iron gates opened, and the scent of wet stone and hearth smoke rolled out to meet them.
