Cassian did not take the long route back to the infirmary.
He chose the route that ran through the spine of the pack house, where the walls were thickest and the traffic heaviest, since hiding what he had done would have turned it into rumor, and rumor was where councils survived.
He led Sable with a firm hand around her wrist, guiding her with the unarguable certainty of an Alpha moving someone who now stood under his protection.
Her body still carried the shock of the kitchen, but she forced herself to keep her attention on the corridor ahead, on the faces they passed, on the way the pack reacted when power stopped being implied and became visible.
Every pair of eyes that found them seemed to measure her differently now.
Some lowered quickly, instinctively, as if looking too long might be taken as challenge.
Others lingered with curiosity, resentment, or hunger for information.
