Cassius and Aldric arrived on a gray afternoon.
They came in separate cars—old habits—but walked up the path together. Kael watched from the window as they paused at the door, two old enemies who had learned to be something else.
Lyra opened the door. "Welcome to our home."
The tour was brief. The house was still rough in places—exposed beams, unfinished trim—but the bones were good. Cassius lingered in the library, running his fingers over the spines of books Lyra had brought from the estate.
"You've made a life here," he said.
"We're making one," Lyra corrected.
Aldric stood at the window, looking out at the ocean. "The pack talks about this place. About the vampire and the wolf who live between territories. Some think it's a betrayal. Others think it's the future."
"What do you think?" Kael asked.
"I think my son is happy. That's enough for me."
They gathered in the living room. Tea for Cassius. Coffee for Aldric. Blood-wine for Lyra. Kael nursed a beer and waited for the other shoe to drop.
"We didn't just come to see the house," Cassius said finally. "There's been an incident. Near the Canadian border."
"What kind of incident?"
"A group of wolves and vampires were meeting. Unofficially. Trying to build the same kind of bridge you have. Someone attacked them."
Kael's grip tightened on his bottle. "The Silent Ones?"
"We don't think so. The attackers were disorganized. Angry. They used rhetoric from the old wars—blood purity, territorial rights. But they weren't trained hunters. Just... believers."
"Believers in what?"
Aldric's voice was heavy. "That the old hatred was right. That our kinds should never mix. That what you two have built is an abomination."
Lyra set down her glass. "How many?"
"Three dead. Two wolves, one vampire. The others escaped."
The weight of it settled over the room. Three lives. Three people who had dared to hope.
"What do we do?" Kael asked.
Cassius looked at Aldric. Then back at Kael.
"We were hoping you could help us figure that out."