Chapter 29. The Shape of Belonging

The days that followed Noah and Serena’s mating were quieter than Mira expected—but not in the way silence used to feel. It wasn’t empty or cold. Instead, it had rhythm. Purpose. A kind of peace that hummed beneath the surface of life in Kaelen’s camp, and without realizing it, Mira had begun to move in sync with it.

She started rising before the sun fully crested the trees, drawn not by obligation but by instinct. Someone always had a basket in hand, waiting by the treeline, ready to forage. Mira followed, learned where the berry bushes grew thickest, which mushrooms to pick and which to leave. Her fingers became quick and confident, her shoulders less tense. The other women—sharp-eyed, strong-armed, always laughing—never treated her like a burden or outsider. They simply made space for her.

By midday, the camp would shift to other rhythms. Children needed tending. Fires needed feeding. Meat needed to be stripped, washed, seasoned. Mira found herself kneeling beside boi