Rafe Calder's car waited beyond the pine line, black as river ice.
"You should be with your pack," Nora said.
"I am looking at the only wolf in that clearing who knows how to stand alone."
He handed her a folded contract. The paper smelled faintly of smoke and cedar.
Protection for ninety days. Sanctuary under Calder law. No forced mating claim. No public humiliation. No debt transferable to family.
Nora read the final line twice.
"You want me at your council table."
"I want Dane to wonder what he threw away."
Nora should have refused.
Instead, she took the pen.