The days that followed were quiet. Too quiet.
Cael had returned to the fortress he built within himself, retreating behind office doors and private hallways like he used to do before. No one saw him moving about the packhouse anymore. No one dared to ask.
He would wake up early and leave for his office before anyone was fully awake, or any day he woke up after guards had started their rounds, he would pass his private hallway connecting his office and residential wing.
To the pack, he had gone back to being a ghost, like he used to be.
To Jason, a locked vault. He had been given the silent treatment since that day. The few conversations they shared were reduced to clipped exchanges.
"The Eastern patrols reported back. Nothing unusual. It seems like it is ok to ease up on the frequency of the patrols now."
"Good. Make sure they switch routes every third night."
"Already done."
"Very good."
Jason left the room without another word.
