Isla’s POV
Love did not arrive with applause.
It came quietly, the way morning light slips into a room before anyone notices it has changed the shape of shadows. It came in small moments, stitched together by ordinary kindness and patience rather than spectacle. I did not plan for it. I did not chase it. I only tried to breathe without pretending, and somehow, that was enough.
My days at Silverfang slowly began to fill.
Not with meetings or performances, but with people.
It started with the omegas.
I began visiting the lower residential wing in the afternoons, dressed simply, my hair tied back, no escort except the one guard Chase insisted on placing discreetly at a distance. I brought bread from the kitchens. Warm soup when the weather bit too sharply. I listened more than I spoke.
