Chapter 92 The Blacksmith

• Morning arrived with the kind of uncertain sunlight that couldn't quite commit to warmth. Bobby stood at the lodge window, watching families gather in the courtyard where just hours ago rogues had attacked with coordinated precision. The shadows under her eyes had deepened overnight despite her attempts to rest, exhaustion clinging to her bones like frost that wouldn't thaw.
• Sarah emerged from the guest quarters with her family in tow—Erik walked beside her with the steady presence of a mate who'd weathered storms together, while Lucinda and Cindy practically vibrated with excitement that only young wolves could sustain. The sight sent conflicting emotions through Bobby's chest, gratitude warring with guilt that felt increasingly familiar.
• "They look happy," Nixon observed from his position by the door, arms crossed in that perpetual vigilance that never quite relaxed.