Isla’s POV
Morning at Silverfang did not arrive gently. It arrived with motion. With schedules and footsteps and doors opening and closing like a place that never truly slept. The mansion felt different in daylight, less mysterious, more demanding. Sunlight revealed the sharp edges of stone and glass, the way everything here was built to endure and to be watched. I dressed carefully, choosing something modest and neutral, nothing that would draw attention, nothing that would invite questions I could not answer.
Chase was already dressed for training camp when I came downstairs. Black athletic gear. Team jacket bearing the Silverfang crest. His hair was pulled back neatly, his posture already set into something sharper, heavier than the man who watched moonlight the night before. This was
