Grim’s face looked so dire.
He was there with me, holding me, keeping me close to him, but his face... it looked ashen. It looked like the end of the world and it terrified me.
Grim has never been loud with his thoughts. Unlike me, he knew how to manage it. There had always been this kind of separation with his mind that didn’t fully filter into our connection, but now… it was spilling out of him, and it was only three sentences over and over. Like a broken record that wouldn’t stop.
‘How could I have missed that?’
Followed by an even more urgent and shaking:
‘Is it because I’ve never been affected by a heat before?’
Which then spirals into:
‘But why am I affected by it now?’
He wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.
It only kept repeating over and over.
His frown, his narrowed eyes,
