The room doesn’t settle right away after Adam leaves, even though the door closes softly behind him and the guard resumes his position as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened. The air still feels charged, like a storm passed too close without fully breaking, and I sit on the edge of the bed longer than I need to, breathing through the leftover tension while my wolf slowly eases back from the surface.
The bond hums low and steady now, not spiking, not pulling, but present in a way that feels watchful, like it’s taking inventory of the aftermath. I press my palm lightly to my chest, grounding myself in the familiar rhythm of my heartbeat, and for the first time I realise how instinctively I associate that rhythm with him now, not ownership, not claim, just awareness that exists whet
