I started moving on Wednesday.

Not emotionally. I wasn't ready for that. But physically. Strategically. I could do that.

I asked Dara for my records. All of them. She brought them in a sealed folder and set it on the table without comment. I read every page. Medical terminology. Clinical language. Facts I could organize.

The hemorrhage. The placental abruption. The absence of a heartbeat. Twenty weeks gestation. Male.

I read it three times. Then I looked up at Dara, who was still standing by the door.

"These records," I said. "Can they be used as evidence?"

Dara's expression shifted. Not surprise. Something closer to recognition. "In what context?"

"Legal. Formal. Something that can't be dismissed."

"Yes," she said carefully. "They're sealed and certified. Any tribunal would accept them."

I nodded. Set the folder aside. "Thank you."

Dara left without asking why I needed to know.

I sat with the records and thought about evidence. About what could be proven. What could be destroyed with facts.

Lila's dying wolf was a lie. I knew it. Cressida suspected it. But suspicion wasn't proof.

I needed documentation. Something clinical. Irrefutable.

Matthew came to see me that evening. He sat in the chair by the window, the same position he'd taken when he told me about dissolving the alliance.

"You're planning something," he said.

It wasn't a question.

I looked at him. At the careful way he watched me. "I need leverage."

"What kind?"

"The kind that proves Lila's wolf isn't dying."

Matthew was quiet for a moment. Then he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "The Lycan Council maintains sealed medical records. Every pack wolf in their jurisdiction. Bloodwork. Genealogy. Health assessments."

I sat up straighter. "Can we access them?"

"Not directly. But I've already reached out."

I stared at him. "To who?"

"Lycan Prince Kaison."

The name hit me like cold water. Everyone knew that name. The heir to the Lycan throne. The most feared wolf on the continent.

"Why would he—"

"I requested a meeting," Matthew said. "Neutral territory. I told him we needed access to Council records for a fraud investigation. He agreed to come personally."

I blinked. "Personally?"

"Yes." Matthew's voice was measured. "Which is unusual. Lycan Princes don't typically handle individual pack disputes. But he's coming. And he needs you there."

My hand pressed against my sternum. "Why me?"

"Because you're the one with standing. The one who was harmed. Your testimony gives the request weight."

I thought about that. About sitting across from a Lycan Prince. About asking for help from someone whose rank made every Alpha I'd ever known look small.

"When?" I asked.

"Tomorrow. Noon. There's a lodge on neutral ground an hour west."

I looked at Matthew. At the tension in his shoulders. The careful way he was presenting this. "You think he'll help."

"I think he agreed to come," Matthew said. "That's more than most would do."

I nodded slowly. "I want evidence. Not rescue."

Matthew's expression softened for just a second. "I know."

He left. I sat alone with Barnaby and tried to imagine what a Lycan Prince would look like. Sound like. Whether he would see me as a problem to solve or a person with a claim.

I didn't sleep that night.

The lodge was small. Simple. Built from dark wood and set back from the road in a clearing surrounded by pine trees. Matthew parked and turned off the engine.

"He's not here yet," Matthew said, scanning the empty lot.

We went inside. The main room had a stone fireplace, a long wooden table, and windows that looked out over the forest. It smelled like cedar and old smoke.

I stood by the window. Barnaby sat at my feet. Matthew paced near the door.

Ten minutes later, I heard it.

The sound of vehicles. More than one. Engines cutting off.

Matthew moved to the door and opened it. I stayed by the window but turned to watch.

Three black SUVs. The doors opened. Wolves in dark clothing stepped out. Lycan Gammas, I realized. Their auras were different. Heavier. Ancient.

And then he emerged from the center vehicle.

Lycan Prince Kaison.

He was tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair. He moved with the kind of control that didn't need to announce itself. His presence reorganized the space around him without effort.

He walked toward the lodge. One of the Gammas moved to follow. Kaison raised a hand without looking back. The Gamma stopped.

Kaison entered alone.

The moment he stepped through the door, it hit me.

His scent.

Wild sage. Winter cedar. Something ancient and clean that I couldn't name.

It wrapped around me like a living thing. My chest tightened. My pulse quickened. The hollow where my wolf used to be suddenly ached—not with emptiness, but with recognition.

Kaison stopped mid-step.

His eyes found mine across the room. Dark. Unreadable. He went absolutely still. The kind of stillness that felt like a predator holding itself in check.

I couldn't move. Couldn't look away.

The air between us hummed. It was nothing like the dull ache of Elias's half-mark. This was sharp. Immediate. Alive.

Matthew glanced between us, confused.

I forced myself to speak. My voice came out steady. Controlled.

"I need information," I said. "Not rescue."

Kaison's gaze didn't waver. He studied me with an intensity that felt like it was cataloging every detail. Every scar. Every fracture.

Then he spoke. His voice was low. Unhurried. Absolutely final.

"Understood."

He crossed the room in three strides and set a sealed envelope on the table between us.

"Lila Robinson's medical records," he said. "Certified by the Lycan Council. Bloodwork from six months ago. Her wolf is healthy. No degenerative illness. No abnormalities."

I stared at the envelope. At the Council seal stamped across the closure.

This was it. The proof. The weapon.

I reached for it. My fingers brushed the paper. The half-mark pulsed cold against my throat—a dull, distant ache.

But the scent of sage and cedar surrounded me. Warm. Present. Real.

I looked up at Kaison. At the way he was watching me. Like he was waiting for something.

"Why did you come personally?" I asked.

His jaw tightened. For a moment, he didn't answer.

Then: "Because I needed to be sure."

"Of what?"

His eyes held mine. Dark. Burning.

"That it was you."