Over the next three months, they had more conversations.
Some went well. Garrett and Isolde started meeting on their own, then brought others. A small community began to form—not an alliance, not yet, but a network. Wolves and vampires who had been cast out or had chosen to leave. People who believed that the old hatred wasn't sustainable.
Some conversations went badly. A vampire in Vancouver threw a glass at Lyra's head. A wolf in Montana tried to attack Kael. They left those encounters shaken but alive.
Helena documented everything. Names. Locations. The slow, fragile growth of something that might become a movement.
"The Council is watching," she told them during one of their calls. "Some members are supportive. Others think you're destabilizing everything."
"We are destabilizing everything," Kael said. "That's the point."
"The point is to build something new. Not just tear down the old."
Lyra looked out the window of their house. The ocean was gray today, restless.
"Both," she said. "We have to do both."
The network grew. A vampire in Portland who had been hiding her friendship with a wolf for years finally came forward. A pack in Oregon voted to allow limited contact with vampires. Small things. Incremental. But real.
One evening, Lyra received a message from an unknown number.
"I heard what you're building. I want to help. But I'm afraid."
She typed back: "So are we. Do it anyway."
The response came an hour later: "Okay. Tell me where to start."
She showed the message to Kael. He read it, then looked at her.
"It's working."
"Slowly."
"Everything worthwhile is slow."