Page 249 of Salt Between the Wolves

Soren’s gaze flickered past him toward the inner fortress, toward the eastern wing, and Kael noticed.

"You haven’t spoken to anyone yet."

"I know they’re waiting."

The answer came sharper than it should have, and Kael held his ground as something in his expression shifted, concern replacing urgency.

"You look terrible."

Soren almost laughed.

"I’ll survive," he said, though it sounded less convincing than he intended.

Kael studied him more closely now, not as a subordinate but as someone who knew him too well.

"What happened in Silverwake?"

Soren didn’t answer.

Instead, he said, "The healer."

Kael blinked.

"What?"

"Where is she?"

That was not the answer Kael had expected, not now, not when the council was waiting and decisions had to be made.

"Soren," Kael said carefully, "we don’t have time for this. The council—"

"They can wait."

The words landed harder than any command, and Kael stared at him.

"They’ve already waited half a day."

"They can wait longer."

"Soren—"

"Where?"

Silence stretched between them as Kael searched his face, trying to understand and decide whether to argue further.

Then, slowly, he exhaled.

"She’s not in the courtyard," he said at last. "I saw her assistant earlier."

Soren didn’t wait for more. He turned and crossed the yard, his stride cutting through the lingering tension like a blade.

Near the eastern corridor, a young woman in healer’s robes was sorting bundles of dried herbs. She looked up as he approached, recognition flashing across her face, followed quickly by unease.

"Alpha."

"Where is she?"

The question came without greeting or preamble.