Great Bear Wilderness Take me to church,

Lorcan’s grin softened, slipping into something darker, something that held her question close as if it were a promise. The slight narrowing of her gaze, the lift of her paw—she was waiting, testing him with her own secret threaded delicately in the air. And he, well, he was nothing if not a keeper of confidences, even if he had plenty of his own buried in shadow.

Consider me a lock, Envy, he replied, voice low and smooth as a midnight river. He held her gaze, and there was no teasing in his eyes now, only the assurance of steel behind his words. Whatever you’ve told me stays where it is, far as I’m concerned. You keep my secrets, I keep yours.

The promise lingered between them, and he gave her a small, knowing nod, as if to say that he understood—deeply, keenly—what it meant to shield parts of oneself, even as they walked side by side.