Damoew's days had a shape now that they hadn't had before.In Ironwood's exile he'd had structure imposed by necessity—survive, keep moving, don't stay long enough in one place to become a liability to anyone who'd sheltered him. After returning he'd had urgency—the war, the alliance building, the battles. Everything had been forward pressure. No time to think about what daily life was supposed to look like.Now there was daily life.He woke before Jasmina most mornings. Not by plan—it had just started happening, the way habits formed without deciding to form them. He got up with Kira when she woke at four or five, which she did reliably, and held her in the kitchen while the compound was still quiet and the bond network was at its lowest activity and there was nothing demanding anything from anyone.He had not told Jasmina this was his favorite time of day.She knew anyway.---His formal role was complicated.He was not Alpha. That was Jasmina's—entirely, formally, recognized by the
Read more