The knock came after midnight.
Not loud. Not cautious either.
Deliberate.
Astraea stirred instantly, alert and focused. That is not a guard.
I already knew.
The bond had shifted seconds before the sound—tightening, vibrating with a familiar turbulence that scraped against my nerves. One thread pulled harder than the others, reckless and strained.
"Don't," I whispered to the door. "Go back."
Silence followed.
Then the lock clicked.
I shot to my feet just as the door opened and he stepped inside, closing it behind him without a word.
"You've lost your mind," I said.
"Probably," he replied quietly. "But it's too late to pretend otherwise."
Moonlight spilled through the narrow window, carving sharp lines across his face. His eyes glowed faintly—not fully shifted, but close enough to be dangerous.
"You broke isolation," I said. "If they find you—"
"They won't," he interrupted. "I rerouted the patrol."
That shouldn't have unsettled me more than it did.
"You planned this."
"Yes."
The bond surged—heat and pressure crashing together. Astraea braced instantly, anchoring us both.
He is unbalanced, she observed. But not hostile.
"That doesn't make this okay," I snapped.
"I know," he said again. The word sounded heavier this time. "I just needed to see you. To know you were real."
I laughed sharply. "After everything, that's what you needed?"
He flinched, shoulders tightening. "After everything, I needed to know if you hated me as much as I deserve."
The honesty in his voice caught me off guard.
"I don't know what I feel," I admitted. "And that's worse."
He took a step closer, then stopped himself, fists clenching at his sides. "The bond is louder tonight."
"It's not an invitation."
"I know."
Another step—closer this time.
"Stop," I warned.
He froze instantly, obeying without argument.
The bond trembled, reacting to the restraint.
"I didn't come to touch you," he said hoarsely. "I came to tell you something."
My pulse thudded painfully. "What."
His jaw tightened. "Lyris isn't done."
"I figured."
"She's pushing the elders. Saying the pack won't accept you unless you submit to a claim trial."
Rage flared hot and sudden. "I won't."
"I know," he said quickly. "That's why she's planning to force instability. If the bond spikes again, she'll use it as proof you're dangerous."
Astraea growled low in my chest.
She seeks dominance through fear, my wolf said. Predictable.
I exhaled slowly. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I won't let her hurt you," he said without hesitation.
The bond flared violently.
I staggered back a step, hand pressing to my chest. "You don't get to decide that."
"I know," he said again, frustration breaking through. "I just—every time I think about losing control, about what we did—what I did—"
His voice cracked.
"I can't undo the past," he finished quietly. "But I won't add to it."
Silence fell thick between us.
Astraea stirred, measured and calm.
He is telling the truth, she said. But truth does not erase consequence.
"I won't forgive you just because fate says so," I said.
"I'm not asking you to."
Another surge rippled through the bond—something deeper this time. Acceptance. Pain. Resolve.
Footsteps echoed faintly outside the chamber.
Both of us stiffened.
"They're close," he murmured.
"You need to leave," I said.
"I will," he agreed. "But listen to me first."
He met my eyes fully now, no arrogance, no defense. Just honesty stripped bare.
"If the bond breaks control again," he said, "they'll blame you."
"I know."
"I'll take responsibility," he said firmly. "Publicly. I'll force the council to acknowledge our role in this."
Shock shot through me. "That could cost you everything."
"I already lost the right to protect myself," he replied. "I lost it years ago."
The bond tightened—not warm, not soft, but steady. Grounded.
Astraea inclined her presence slightly. This one may yet learn restraint.
The footsteps drew nearer.
He stepped back toward the door. "You're not alone in this," he said. "Even if you never choose us."
The lock clicked softly as he slipped out, sealing the chamber once more.
I stood there long after he was gone, heart racing, mind spinning.
Astraea settled fully into place, strong and unyielding.
Lines have been crossed, she said. Now consequences will follow.
Somewhere in the pack, a howl rose—sharp, warning, restless.
I knew then with certainty:
Isolation was over.
And whatever came next would not be contained quietly again.