The Council announced its decision on the fourth day.
Cassius delivered the news in person, meeting Kael and Aldric at a diner outside the city. He looked tired. Older than Kael had ever seen him.
"They've agreed to consider the historical evidence. Not to act on it—not yet. But to acknowledge that the old alliance existed. That our kinds once worked together."
"That's something," Aldric said.
"It's a crack. A small one. But it's there." Cassius paused. "Lord Valerius voted against even that much. He's not our enemy yet, but he's watching. Closely."
Kael leaned forward. "What about Lyra? What about us?"
"Officially, nothing has changed. The treaty still forbids contact. If you're discovered, the consequences will be severe." Cassius met his eyes. "Unofficially... you have my blessing. Whatever that's worth."
"It's worth everything," Kael said.
Cassius nodded slowly. "Then take care of her. She's all I have left."
That night, Kael and Lyra walked through Stanley Park. The city lights reflected on the water. The air was cold, but neither of them felt it.
"Three months ago, I was standing in the rain outside a record store," Lyra said. "I didn't know who I was. What I wanted."
"And now?"
"Now I know. I want this. Us. Whatever it looks like."
Kael stopped walking. He turned to face her, the city behind him, the ocean beyond.
"I want to show you something," he said.
He pulled out his phone and played a song. Nick Drake. Pink Moon. The same album he'd picked up the day they met.
"I saw it written and I saw it say / Pink moon is on its way."
Lyra listened. When the song ended, she was smiling.
"That's how it started," she said.
"That's how it started."
He kissed her. In the middle of Vancouver, surrounded by enemies who would never understand, Kael Shadowbane kissed Lyra Silvanus.
And somewhere, in the spaces between their kinds, something ancient stirred.
Not a threat.
A promise.