LYRA

Fear looked wrong on Fenrir.

That was my first thought.

This was the wolf who had stood before ancient horrors without hesitation. The guardian who had watched civilizations rise and fall, who had survived centuries carrying the burden of a dying bloodline.

Fear did not belong on his face.

Yet it was there.

Small.

Controlled.

But unmistakable.

The bond reacted immediately.

Not panic.

Alertness.

Lucian's posture shifted beside me.

Dangerously still.

“What is it?”

Fenrir was silent for ...