Page 70 of Salt Between the Wolves

His gaze lingered on her for a moment too long before he finally stepped aside, as though making room for her to pass.

Eira moved toward the doorway.

The bond tightened painfully with every step, but she kept walking.

One pace became two, then three.

"Eira."

His voice stopped her.

She turned.

For a moment neither spoke as the pause stretched long enough for something fragile and impossible to rise between them—an expectation, a hope, or perhaps both.

Eira waited.

Soren's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, and she saw the struggle as clearly as the words that never reached his lips.

In the end he said only:

"Be careful."

The disappointment surprised her, not because the words were insufficient, but because some foolish part of her had expected more—a confession, an explanation, anything at all.

Instead there was only the same silence that had always existed between them, the same distance, and the same unfinished things.

Eira held his gaze for another moment before nodding.

"You too."

Neither moved at first.

Then she turned and walked away.

This time he didn't call her back.

The night swallowed the distance between them as she disappeared into the fortress, carrying with her the strange certainty that something had just ended—not their story, but only the version of it that had existed until now.

By the time Eira returned to her rooms, the fortress had grown quiet.

Most of Ironfang had already settled for the night, and the sounds that still drifted through the walls came faintly and far apart—a door closing somewhere below, distant footsteps in a corridor, or the muted call of a sentry beyond the courtyard.

She closed the door behind her and stood still for a moment.

The room greeted her exactly as it always had, unchanged in every familiar detail.

The bed stood beneath the window, a candle burned low on the table, and the small shelf beside the hearth held the handful of possessions she had accumulated since arriving in Ironfang.

It was so little, and yet still more than she had possessed when she first crossed these mountains.

Eira set the satchel down and began gathering the last of her things.

There was very little to take: a change of clothes, a knife, and the few personal items she truly cared about, while the rest she left where it was.

At some point she paused and found herself looking around the room.

The sight felt strangely unreal.