Rowan's escape changed Grimridge more than the attack on the door had.
Before, the pack house had felt hunted. After, it felt watched by something patient and personal, and that difference touched everything. The guards still moved with discipline, the corridors still held their usual rhythm of clerks, servants, patrol changes, and muted conversation, but underneath it all lived a sharper understanding that the woman who had wanted Sable broken before she died was no longer confined to a cell.
She was outside.
She was free.
And she knew Grimridge from the inside.
The first seven days after her escape passed without another direct attempt, which somehow felt worse than if Rowan had thrown herself immediately against the walls. Cassian understood the danger of silence better than most wolves understood noise. A silent enemy wasn't resting. A silent enemy was choosing where pain would matter most.
He changed the pack's shape without shrinking Sable's life.
That mattered.
