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"Blaidd," she murmured, half exhausted, half amused. "Let me sleep."

"Just one more time," he had whispered desperately against her throat as he pushed her thighs apart with his.

She had seen it in his eyes—the fear that she would leave once she was out of his sight. He would check on her in the middle of the day with one excuse or an other.

He seemed to be driven by the need to prove she was still there.

In the morning, he kissed her forehead gently, lingering longer than usual before he turned toward the door.

Then he paused yet again when she caught his hand before he could slip away.

He looked back at her with a question in his eyes.

There was something she needed to say. She swallowed.

"I am going to move back to the old house. It is more mine than anyone else's, and I will not be driven away by ghosts." she said, slightly aggressively.

"And...I'm not going to take the silphium anymore," she said quietly.

The words seemed to shimmer between them. Understanding slowly dawned in his expression.

"You want my child?" he croaked, eyes searching hers, almost expecting a prank.

Fae nodded. "Yes."

For a heartbeat, he said nothing. Then his hand tightened around hers in a bruising grip. Something like hope flickered across his face. He kissed her again like his life depended on it before reluctantly pulling away and making for the door. He spoke to her through their mindlink until it faded with distance.

***

Most of the pack had travelled to Fae's parent pack for the spring gathering the next week.

The northern lands felt quieter without them.

Maxen and Lisna had remained behind with a handful of pack members. Lisna had a difficult birth and was still recovering. Blaidd was due back in two days, and Fae had refused to leave without him. She had not admitted it aloud, but she did not want to spend a single night away from him now.

Lisna came by that afternoon, Maxen carrying their babe in his arms.

Keeping Fae distracted, Lisna spoke warmly of plans for the southern barn—turning it into a bathhouse, perhaps a gathering hall for the elders. She wanted to make it a place for the old ones to sit and tell stories.

The children played in the yard, their laughter echoing faintly.

Maxen stood quietly for most of it, rocking his daughter absently while he watched the sisters talk.

Eventually, after last meal, he cleared his throat. "It's time."

Lisna nodded. She hugged Fae, lingering longer than usual.

Then they left, hand in hand, while the children followed.

Fae stood at the doorway, watching them go, smiling faintly.

It had been many days since she had touched her tools.

She had plans to move back into the old house. She had realised something quietly stubborn inside her—it was more hers than Isolde's; more hers than anyone's. Now that it stood bare, stripped of memory and resentment, she wanted to shape it with her own hands.

She turned back inside to prepare for the morning meal.

The front door slid open and shut in the gentle breeze.