I know the second he steps onto this side of the hallway.
It starts as a pressure behind my ribs, subtle but unmistakable, like someone tightening a wire that runs straight through the center of my chest, and before I even hear his boots against the floorboards outside my room, the nausea rolls up my throat hard enough that I have to brace myself against the headboard.
“Shit.” I whisper, swallowing thickly as my stomach flips.
He is not even inside. He is not touching me. He is just near. The spell reacts anyway.
My wolf recoils, confused and furious, and the bond twists in on itself like something is forcing two magnets the wrong way around.
Footsteps stop outside my door. I know it is him without scent, without sound, without confirmation. The sickness spikes violently.
I barely ma
