The training grounds were quiet this early in the morning, save for the soft thud of boots against packed dirt. Zayan had just finished a short sparring session with two of his guards, his shirt damp with sweat and his arms glistening in the golden morning light. He rolled his shoulders, savoring the ache of exertion, and grabbed a towel from a nearby post.
"You're up early," came a familiar voice behind him, lilting with mischief.
Zayan turned to see Isolde striding toward him, her dark braid swaying behind her and a grin already tugging at the corner of her mouth. She carried a leather-bound ledger under one arm, her sleeves rolled up and a smudge of ink streaked across one cheek.
"You're one to talk," he said, tossing the towel over his shoulder. "What are you doing outside the infirmary at this hour?"
"Paperwork," she said with a dramatic sigh. "And avoiding the little monsters in the nursery. They've discovered how to lock the adults out of the supply room using only string and determination. It's chaos."
Zayan laughed, the sound rare and unguarded. "Sounds like you're losing your edge."
Isolde made a face. "I'm a healer, not a babysitter. But if you want to volunteer your time to wrangle them, be my guest."
Zayan raised a brow. "Actually, that's part of what I wanted to talk to you about."
Her interest piqued, Isolde slowed her pace until she stood beside him, folding her arms across her chest. "Oh?"
"It's Arin," he said.
Isolde tilted her head, already smirking. "The mysterious stranger you dragged in half-dead? Go on."
"She's getting stronger. Healing faster than expected," he said, tone shifting slightly—more serious now. "She wants to help out. Contribute."
Isolde's brow lifted in surprise. "That's fast. Most people in her position wouldn't be eager to get on their feet so soon."
"She appears to be not most people," Zayan said quietly, then cleared his throat. "She asked if there was anything she could do."
"Let me guess—you want to pawn her off on me," Isolde said, grinning. "Make her my responsibility?"
"I was thinking of the nursery," he said. "You've always said you needed extra hands."
Isolde winced. "I do, but... Arin?" She hesitated. "I like her. Don't get me wrong. But the nursery is loud. The pups are unpredictable, and they don't exactly respect personal space. It might be too much for someone still healing. Or someone not used to our pack life."
Zayan nodded slowly, considering. "So not the best fit."
"No," Isolde said thoughtfully. "But I might have another idea."
He looked at her expectantly.
"She could assist me," she said with a shrug. "I've been buried in records and herbal inventory since last moon. And with Sera splitting her time between the apothecary and the border patrol, I could use someone who's organized. You said Arin used to manage the palace library?"
"She mentioned it, yes."
"Then she's probably better with documents than half the people who work with me." Isolde smiled. "And it'll keep her out of the chaos while still letting her feel useful."
Zayan exhaled. "That could work."
Isolde watched him for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. "You really care about her, don't you?"
He blinked. "I'm just trying to do the right thing."
"Uh-huh," she said, unconvinced.
"I am," he insisted.
"Sure." Her grin turned sly. "You're doing the right thing by checking in on her three times a day, bringing her food even when someone else already did, and now trying to find the perfect little job to ease her back into life?"
Zayan scowled. "She is a guest of the pack. It's my responsibility as Alpha."
"You're blushing," Isolde said gleefully, pointing at his face. "Zayan Vale is actually blushing."
"I'm not."
"Oh, Zay." She clutched the ledger to her chest dramatically. "You have got a crush!"
Zayan turned away, muttering, "You are simply impossible."
"Admit it," she teased, following him like a shadow. "You like her."
"She's... complicated," he said finally, his voice lower now, his posture tense. "She's been hurt. Betrayed. And she's still not safe. Whatever she's running from—it's not over."
Isolde's expression softened.
"I'm not trying to be anything," Zayan said. "I just want her to feel safe. To have a choice, for once."
"And that's exactly why she will fall for you," Isolde said gently. "Because you see her. Not as a pawn or a threat—but as a person."
He didn't answer right away.
"I think she's a good fit," Isolde continued. "Not just for the infirmary. For you."
He shot her a warning look. "Don't push it."
She raised her hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, fine. I'm just saying... for all it's worth, I like her. She's sharp. Quiet, but not weak. She listens. She thinks. We need more of that around here."
Zayan ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "I'll tell her about working with you."
"Perfect," Isolde said, pivoting on her heel. "I'll make space at the back desk. And I'll try not to tease you too much when you 'drop by' to check on her."
"I will demote you," he warned.
"You can't," she said over her shoulder. "I'm family. And no one is as good as me."
He watched her walk away, shaking his head but smiling faintly.
Later that afternoon, Zayan stood just outside the healer's quarters, hesitating. He'd come here countless times since Arin arrived, but this time felt different. He didn't want to pressure her. But he also couldn't deny that he wanted to see her—to hear her voice, to watch that flicker of resolve and warmth in her eyes when she smiled.
He knocked once.
"Come in," came her soft reply.
He pushed open the door and stepped inside. Arin was sitting on the cot, her back straight and posture poised. The bruises along her arms had faded to soft yellow and green shadows. Her hair was braided today, pulled back from her face, and there was a faint flush to her cheeks that hadn't been there before.
"You look better," he said.
"I feel better," she replied. "Thanks to your generosity."
"I spoke with my sister," he said, stepping further into the room. "About you wanting something to do."
Arin straightened slightly, interest lighting in her gaze.
"She suggested you work with her in the infirmary," he said. "Helping with records, inventory, maybe assisting with herbal prep if you're comfortable with that."
Arin blinked. "She would let me do that?"
"She was actually really glad for the help," he said. "And you wouldn't be around the pups. Less noise. Less chaos."
She smiled faintly. "That sounds... perfect, actually."
He nodded, something easing in his chest. "You can start whenever you're ready."
"Tomorrow," she said without hesitation. "I'd like to start tomorrow."
Zayan smiled. "I'll let her know."
"Thank you," Arin said, her voice softer now. "Really."
He met her gaze, the silence between them stretching—not uncomfortable, but full of something unspoken. Something growing.
"I'll see you tomorrow then," he said, his voice quiet.
She nodded. "Tomorrow."
He lingered a second too long before turning to leave, and when he stepped out into the cool evening air, his heart beat just a little faster.