Morning came slowly, filtered through thick clouds that dulled the light and weighed down the air. She stood by the window of the small room she had been given, watching the pack grounds come alive. Wolves moved with quiet purpose below, their routines unchanged, as though time had not swallowed her whole and returned her altered.
She pressed a hand to her stomach without thinking. The gesture was instinctive, protective. She stopped herself quickly, drawing in a steady breath. No one could know. Not yet. Especially not him.
A knock sounded at the door. Firm. Familiar.
She did not answer immediately. Her pulse quickened, a warning she had learned not to ignore. When she finally opened the door, he stood there, already dressed, already in control. His eyes flicked over her face, sharp, assessing, lingering just a second too long.
"You should not be alone today," he said.
"I have always been alone," she replied calmly.
Something dark moved behind his eyes. He stepped inside without waiting for permission, filling the room with his presence. The space shrank around them, walls closing in as the bond stirred, restless and demanding.
"There are whispers," he said. "About you. About why you returned."
She crossed her arms, lifting her chin. "People whisper when they feel threatened."
"They whisper when they sense weakness," he countered.
Her lips curved slightly. "Then they are mistaken."
He watched her closely, as if trying to reconcile the woman before him with the girl he had once rejected. His jaw tightened, regret flashing across his face before he masked it.
"You do not belong on the edges anymore," he said. "If you stay, you stay under my protection."
She laughed softly, the sound stripped of humor. "Protection from who? You?"
The words landed harder than she intended. He flinched, just barely. Silence stretched between them, heavy with everything unsaid.
"I made a mistake," he said finally, voice low. "One that cost more than I understood at the time."
Her chest tightened, old wounds aching open. "Mistakes do not exile people," she said. "Choices do."
A sudden shout echoed from outside. Then another. The air shifted instantly, sharp with alarm. His body went rigid, instinct taking over.
"Stay here," he ordered.
She met his gaze, steady and unyielding. "I am done obeying you."
For a moment, something dangerous sparked between them. Desire. Anger. Recognition. He reached out, stopping himself just short of touching her, his hand hovering near her waist as though drawn by instinct.
"I can feel it," he said quietly. "Whatever you are hiding, it is tied to me."
Her breath caught. She stepped back, putting space between them before her control slipped. Outside, the noise grew louder, closer.
The threat was no longer distant. It was here. And so was the truth, pressing against her ribs, waiting for the moment it would no longer be contained.