I was back in Graymoor the next morning.
It had nothing to do with Rhys showing up at my office. I want to be clear about that. I had documents to follow up on, a property I still hadn't assessed properly, and a legal process I was fully entitled to pursue. A threatening text and a surveillance photo were not going to run me out of that. I was a property lawyer. This was literally my job.
I also happened to repack my bag in under forty minutes, which was just me being...me.
I called Janine before I left the apartment.
"You're going back," she said before I finished explaining.
"I have documents to follow up on."
"Mm-hmm."
"And the property assessment isn't finished."
"Right."
"And Rhys said I could bring my caseload, so we can still work the Mercer file and the Donovan easement remotely. I just need you to be reachable."
"I am always reachable," Janine said. "I will be so reachable. I'll drive up on the weekend; actually, we can work from—"
"No."
"The fresh air would be good for both of us—"
"Janine."
"I looked it up; it's a lovely drive—"
"You're not coming to Graymoor."
A pause. "Is this about the Alpha?"
"This is about a professional boundary I'm drawing clearly and with affection."
She sighed. "Fine. I'll be reachable by phone."
She showed up at my office anyway, forty minutes later, while I was loading boxes into my car. She didn't say anything about it. She just picked up the heavier box and carried it down to the parking garage and helped me fit everything in without being asked.
"The architect's friend is still interested," she said, sliding the last box in.
"Janine."
"Just keeping you updated." She closed the boot and patted it. "Call me when you get there."
I drove two hours north with my caseload in the back seat, the Graymoor folder on the passenger seat, and the radio on low.
The new motel was better than the first one. I'd looked it up the night before—closer to the busier part of town, decent parking lot right out front, the kind of place with actual working wifi and a room that didn't smell like carpet from 2003. The room was bigger, cleaner, and had a window that faced the street instead of a narrow side alley.
I unloaded, stacked my work boxes against the wall, and changed into jeans and a grey sweater because the sky outside had gone flat and overcast since I'd crossed into Graymoor and the air suddenly had a cold edge to it. I looked out the window for a moment at the street below.
You're back.
I was back. That was just a fact. I picked up my folder and drove to the estate.
Something was different the moment I got through the checkpoint.
The guards were the same, the road was the same, but the energy on the grounds had shifted. More people were moving, some of them in groups, conversations happening at the edges of buildings that stopped when I drove past.
I parked and went to the front door.
Callum opened it before I knocked, which was either instinct or someone had called ahead when I came through the gate.
"Ms. Winters, welcome back," he stepped back to let me in. "The Alpha is dealing with a situation on the western border. He won't be available today."
Ugh! I should have just called him.
"How long?" I asked instead of turning away.
"Could be several hours. It's not something I can predict right now."
I looked at him. "Can I wait?"
Something in Callum's expression shifted, very slightly. "It could be a long wait."
"I brought stuff."
He looked at me for a moment, then nodded and stepped aside. "I'll have Nadia bring tea."
The waiting room was the same as before. Comfortable and nothing on the walls. Nadia brought tea and a plate of shortbread, which was genuinely excellent, and I ate two pieces and felt slightly less cold from the drive.
I took my glasses out and opened a book. Read four pages. Went back and reread them because I hadn't absorbed a word. Switched to the Mercer file instead, which at least required active thinking.
Callum checked in at the one-hour mark.
"Still fine," I said, before he could ask.
"I wasn't going to ask."
"You were going to ask."
He smiled at that and leaned against the doorframe instead of leaving, which I took as an invitation. "How does this compare to other pack houses you've worked out of?"
"Honestly?" I looked around the waiting room, then back at him. "It's the largest I've been in. I worked a case with the Halverson Pack two years ago. Their main house was sizeable."
"Graymoor runs four towns," he said. It wasn't boastful, just matter-of-fact. "There's a lot to manage."
"I noticed. What does a regular day actually look like here? For the pack, I mean."
He thought about it for a second. "Mornings are administrative. Border reports, supply coordination, anything that came in overnight. Rhys is usually in meetings before nine. Then midday is when most of the territory business moves — disputes, requests from pack members, anything that needs a decision from Alpha or Beta level. Afternoons vary."
"And the people running the house?"
"They manage the day-to-day operations of the main building, making sure the whole thing doesn't fall apart," he said it with genuine respect. "Most packs this size outsource a lot of that. Rhys keeps it internal. It's one of the things he got right."
I looked at him. "A friend of mine actually mention a brother?"
Callum went still. "Half-brother," he said.
"He passed away?"
"The whole pack misses Reid. Every day." He looked at me briefly. "I'll check back in an hour," he said, and left.
The second hour, an omega came in with fresh tea and set it down. She was young, early twenties maybe, and she lingered after setting the tray.
"Can I ask you something?" she said.
"Go ahead."
"You're a property lawyer, right? That's what I heard from Beta Callum and Alpha Rhys."
"That's right."
She sat down in the chair across from me, just at the edge of it, like she wasn't fully committing to staying. "So if someone wanted to practice law, like specifically property and land rights, how long does that actually take? After the degree, I mean."
I looked at her properly. "Are you thinking about it?"
"I'm applying for the pack scholarship next year," she said. "There's a program Alpha Rhys set up. It covers tuition and housing for pack members who want to study outside. It's a full scholarship."
"I didn't know about that."
"Most people outside the pack don't." She seemed pleased to be telling me something I didn't know. "He started it four years ago. Law, medicine, engineering, whatever you want. You don't have to come back and work for the pack if you don't want to. You can work anywhere."
"He gives you the choice."
"Always. He says a pack that only grows inward stops growing," she said it like she was quoting something she'd heard directly, and probably had. "I want to work on land rights cases, specifically lycan territorial law. There aren't enough of us who know both sides of it."
"No," I said. "There really aren't," I leaned forward slightly. "After the degree you're looking at two to three years of specialization if you want to focus on territorial law specifically. The lycan side of it has a lot of gaps in the scholarship, which actually works in your favor — there's more room to build a practice."
She was nodding, actually listening, pulling out her phone to take notes.
We talked for another twenty minutes. I told her which programs had the strongest land law faculties, which ones had existing lycan law clinics, and what she should look for in an internship. She asked good questions.
When she finally stood to leave, she tucked her phone away and smiled. "Thank you."
"What's your name?"
"Dorothy," she said. "Well, everyone calls me Dort."
"Good luck with the application, Dort."
She picked up the empty tray and left, and I went back to the Mercer file feeling, quietly and unexpectedly, like that had been the best twenty minutes of my week.
The third hour I finished the Mercer survey review, started drafting notes for the Thursday call with Gerald with my laptop, and ate the last piece of shortbread. I stood up and looked around. Then I found a door that led me to find coffee. I helped myself with a mug and went back to work.
Half an hour later, the front door opened.
I heard it before I saw anything and then voices in the entrance hall and then footsteps.
Rhys appeared in the doorway.
There was dirt on his jacket and his shirt was torn at the shoulder. There was a cut on his lower lip that had mostly stopped bleeding and a bruise along his jaw. He was still moving like someone running on adrenaline that hadn't fully settled yet.
He stopped when he saw me, and he looked…relieved. Like he'd walked in braced for the room to be empty, and it wasn't.