Chapter 23. Between Two Wolves

The cast-iron stove in the corner of the tent coughed up a thin plume of smoke before the flame caught properly. Kaelen crouched low, flint in hand, coaxing the fire with practiced patience. The tiny spark bloomed to life, licking across the kindling with growing confidence until the stove glowed warmly, its gentle crackle breaking the stillness like a heartbeat returning to a long-silent room.

He stood and dusted his palms, glancing toward the bed.

Mira sat perched at the edge of it, wrapped so tightly in the wool blanket she looked more cocoon than woman. Her eyes tracked the floor, not moving, like she wasn’t sure whether stepping forward might set something off. She didn’t quite belong here yet—her shoulders said it, the curve of her back said it. She was here, but not in it.

Kaelen turned away and laid out two cushions beside the low table, placing the food tray between them. “Come,” he said gently. “Eat.”

For a moment, Mira didn’t move. Then, cautiously