They found the house in late autumn.
It sat on a cliff overlooking the Pacific, halfway between the Silvanus estate and the Shadowbane territory. Neutral ground in every sense. The structure was old—Victorian bones wrapped in weathered shingles, a widow's walk that faced the sea. The garden had gone wild. The windows were clouded with salt.
Lyra stood at the edge of the property, her hands in the pockets of her coat. Kael was beside her, his breath fogging in the cold air.
"It needs work," he said.
"It needs everything."
"The roof looks sound. Foundation too. The rest we can fix."
She turned to look at him. "You want to live here. With me."
"I want to build something. With you. A place that isn't your father's house or my father's territory. Something that's ours."
The word hung between them. Ours. A year ago, it would have been impossible. Even now, it felt fragile—a thing made of hope and stubbornness and the choice they made every day to stay.
"Okay," she said. "Let's build it."
The renovation took months. Kael did most of the physical work—his wolf strength made quick work of demolition and heavy lifting. Lyra handled the details. Measurements. Materials. The thousand small decisions that turned a structure into a home.
They worked in comfortable silence most days. Kael would sand floors while Lyra painted walls. They'd break for meals she didn't eat and he devoured. In the evenings, they'd sit on the unfinished widow's walk and watch the sun set over the Pacific.
One night, after the kitchen was finally functional, Kael cooked dinner. Pasta. Simple. Human food that he ate while she sat across from him, a cup of blood-wine in her hands.
"My father wants to visit," she said.
"Which one?"
"Both. Cassius and Aldric. Together."
Kael set down his fork. "That's either very good or very bad."
"They want to see the house. Where we're living. What we're building."
"Then let them come."
"They'll bring politics with them. The Council. The pack. Everything we've been trying to escape."
He reached across the table and took her hand. "We're not escaping anything. We're building something new. They can be part of it or not. That's their choice."
She looked at their joined hands. His warm, hers cool. The contrast that had once seemed insurmountable now felt like balance.
"Okay," she said. "Let them come."