Something shifted. King’s body eased, the tension in his shoulders melting as he slowed his pacing. He pressed his great head against the glass, amber eyes locked on the fragile bundle. The crowd fell silent, the weight of the moment settling like a hush. Noah pressed a hand to the glass in front of him, whispering just loud enough for his father to hear.
“See, Dad? He just wanted to know it was safe.” Daniel swallowed hard, pulling his son close. “And now he knows.” King gave one last rumble, low and deep, before retreating to his corner—not to guard, not to hide, but to rest. For the first time in days, he closed his eyes, as if finally at peace.