Kiva had been prepared for several possible responses to her alleged stalking. Encouragement had not been one of them. Her ears tipped forward as Raelan considered the matter with entirely too much seriousness, and by the time he arrived at ‘Kiva of the Shadows, Follower of Pawsteps’, she was staring at him with open delight. “Oh, that’s terrible. But, I love it.”

She drew herself up, chin lifting with exaggerated importance. “Although ‘Follower of Pawsteps’ makes me sound less like a skilled stalker and more like I’ve gotten terribly lost and am hoping whoever I’m following knows where they’re going.” Her expression faltered. “Actually, never mind. That’s remarkably accurate.”

The mention of a council only encouraged her. “Good. Please tell them I expect regular updates regarding your whereabouts. Maps would be preferable. Perhaps an itinerary.” She nodded solemnly. “I take my responsibilities very seriously.” She didn’t, actually. His congratulations earned a soft snort, though the word ‘ghost’ lingered strangely. Kiva let it pass. There were enough ghosts between the two of them already without inviting another into an otherwise pleasant afternoon. And this was pleasant. Kiva had almost forgotten how easy conversation could be when neither participant was being psychologically assaulted by flowers.

“Raelan, then,” she agreed when he dismissed the titles, although the amusement in her eyes suggested Ser Raelan Whitewood, Lord Commander of Eastrenhold would absolutely return whenever inconvenient for him. His interest in her credentials earned a raised brow. “Careful, now. That sounded suspiciously like curiosity. Keep that up and people might start thinking you’re stalking me.” But then he repeated her name.

Kiva Gaudius, former messenger and ambassador of Wind Haven. Something small shifted behind her expression. They were only words. Titles belonging to a place impossibly far away, attached to responsibilities she no longer possessed. Still, hearing someone else say them made Wind Haven feel, for one brief moment, less like something she’d dreamed. Her smile softened, as did her voice. “Pleasure to formally meet you too, Raelan.”

Fortunately, his wounded response gave her an escape before the sentiment could linger. Kiva gasped, one paw lifting to grasp against her chest once again. “Your stalker thinks extremely highly of you, actually. I’ve followed you across half a continent, apparently. Do you think I do that for just anyone?” she sniffed. Then Raelan turned toward the direction of the wedding.

Kiva had expected an answer. Maybe directions. Perhaps an explanation of exactly whose wedding half of Mythris had apparently decided to attend. She hadn’t, however, expected an invitation.

You may come along as a member of Eastrenhold.

For once, Kiva had nothing immediately available to say. She understood the practicality of it. Raelan was hoping to secure an alliance, and arriving with some unaffiliated stranger he’d collected beside a cliff probably invited unnecessary questions. Unfortunately, another part of her heard something much simpler.

Come with us.

Something tightened beneath her ribs. She had spent so long existing nowhere in particular. Sleeping beneath unfamiliar trees, following paths simply because they were there, wandering onward because there was nowhere she was expected to return to afterward. And now someone had made room for her beside him. Even if only for an afternoon.

“That seems dangerously trusting,” she finally said, humor slipping safely back into place. “You’ve met me twice. The first time I cried at you, and the second time I admitted to stalking you. Your standards for recruitment are concerning.” But she moved. Because of course she did. Kiva fell into step after him, closing the distance until his conditions finally registered.

“Wait. No biting, poisoning, or stalking?” She looked genuinely affronted. “Raelan, you’ve just eliminated nearly my entire skill set.” Amber eyes slid toward him, humor yet again within them. “Fine. Best behavior. Well, within reason.”

Ahead, the scattered scents she’d noticed earlier grew stronger, individual trails disappearing beneath dozens. Conversation occasionally reached them on the breeze. Wolves moved in the distance, all converging upon a celebration Kiva hadn’t known existed an hour ago. Noise, company, life. It almost made a longing whine creep up her throat. She shut that shit down immediately. Her steps slowed for barely half a heartbeat before continuing.

“Just so we’re clear,” Kiva stated after clearing her throat, all traces of momentary weakness gone, “if anyone asks, I am an extremely respectable member of Eastrenhold and absolutely not some suspicious woman you found sitting alone beside a cliff.”

Her mouth motioned upwards into a soft smile. “And if this alliance of yours somehow fails, I was never there.” The cliffs gradually fell behind them. Kiva didn’t look back.

Instead, she walked beside a wolf who had been a stranger among blue flowers and was, somehow, not quite one anymore, toward a wedding she hadn’t been invited to, belonging for the afternoon to a place she’d never seen. It was ridiculous and it was probably a terrible idea. And yet? Kiva smiled.

“Alright, Lord Commander. Tell me what exactly I’ve just agreed to.”