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    Third Person POV


    The restaurant sat along the river''s edge,nterns strung between old wooden posts casting warm light across the water. It was quiet enough to feel private, but public enough that no one could use them of secrecy. Lance had chosen it deliberately.


    I noticed.


    She noticed most thingstely.


    She was on high alert, especially in public. Lance noticed it, though she hid it well. They''d only known each other for a few months, but he could read her as if he''d been doing it all his life.


    They sat across from each other at a small table near the railing, the low murmur of conversation and the gentlep of water filling the pauses between them. I''s hands were folded neatly in herp, her postureposed, but there was tension in the line of her shoulders that hadn''t been there a few weeks ago.


    Lance watched her over the rim of his ss, his expression thoughtful rather than guarded.


    "You don''t have to look like you''re waiting for bad news," he said lightly.


    Her lips curved, but it didn''t quite reach her eyes. "I''m not."


    "That was a lie," he replied calmly.


    She huffed a softugh. “You''re impossible."


    "Persistent," he corrected. "There''s a difference."


    He reached across the table, not touching her, just resting his forearm there- present, but not demanding. I


    noticed that too.


    It made her chest ache.


    "I''m d you agreed toe," he said more seriously. "I know things have been...plicated."


    "That''s one word for it," she said quietly.


    They fell into a brief silence as their food arrived. I took a few careful bites, clearly more focused on the act of eating than on the meal itself. Lance waited, patient as ever, until she finally set her fork down.


    "You''re thinking again," he said.


    She met his gaze. "I''m always thinking."


    "That''s what worries me."


    She smiled faintly. "You want me to stop?"


    "No," he said. "I just don''t want you to punish yourself for it."


    Her fingers tightened slightly against the linen napkin. "You make it sound like I''m doing something wrong."


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    "I think you''re doing something familiar,” he replied gently. "You''re ming yourself for this situation because you''re used to taking the me. But that doesn''t mean you deserve it."


    I looked away, her gaze drifting toward the river. The water reflected thentern light in fractured gold lines. She tried to focus on that. It was easier than looking at the earnest look on Lance''s face.


    "I don''t know how to do this," she admitted after a moment. "Not without feeling like I''m waiting for everything to fall apart.


    >>


    Lance leaned back in his chair, studying her. "You think you don''t deserve things to go well."


    She didn''t deny it.


    "After everything," she said softly. "After what my family tried to turn this into. After what they asked of me." She shook her head. "It feels wrong to just... be happy." “Happiness isn''t a reward," Lance said. "It''s not something you earn by suffering enough."


    She nced at him, skepticism flickering in her eyes. "That''s easy for you to say." "Is it?" he asked. "Look, sweetheart, I''ve watched Nn live with that attitude for most of our lives. He denied himself of everything that made him feel good because he didn''t think he deserved it, and he nearly lost everything because of it. From where I''m standing, you''ve already done the hard part. You said no when it would have been easier to say yes. You''re the one who refused to trade integrity for safety."


    Her throat tightened.


    "I almost did," she whispered.


    “But you didn''t,” he said simply.


    Thatnded harder than she expected.


    She took a breath, steadying herself. "The pack feels... different right now," she said, changing the subject slightly. "Everyone''s talking about the debate. It feels like something big ising."


    Lance nodded. “Silver Fang is buzzing. You''d think it was a festival the way people are acting."


    "And Nn?" she asked. "How is he really?"


    Lance hesitated just a fraction too long.


    I caught it immediately. "That bad?"


    "He''s holding it together,” Lance said carefully, “But he''s tense. More than usual.” "Because of the pressure?"


    “Partly,” he admitted. “But it feels like he''s bracing for something. Like he''s waiting for a hit he can''t see yet. He''s always preferred to keep things private, so maybe that''s all it is but... I think you''re right. It feels like something ising."


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