The fire crackled in the center of the tent. Its embers glowed gold and violet — divine and wolf magic interlacing in perfect contradiction, just like them.
The war council had ended hours ago. Plans were laid. Armies mobilized. But none of that mattered now. Not in this tent. Not in this silence. Not in this final calm before dawn broke with blood.
Athena stood at the far end of the furs, her back to them, her breath shallow.
Her hands trembled. Not from fear.
From restraint.
Lucas was the first to move.
He crossed the space between them in a few strides, wrapping his arms around her from behind, his cheek pressing gently to hers. His body was warm. Familiar. Grounded.
"You don't have to be strong right now," he whispered. "Not with us."
She leaned into him, eyes closing, her heart thudding.
"I don't know what tomorrow brings," she murmured. "But I know what I want tonight."
Cassius's voice came from the entrance, low and raw. "Then take it."
Athena turned slowly.
