Jace
She had been going to Vance for months.
I turned that over as I rode, from every angle, looking for the part that didn’t sit right. There were several parts that didn’t sit right. The fact that he could touch her in the dreamscape. The fact that she hadn’t pulled away. The fact that whatever hold he had over her there was strong enough that it took a wolf breaking through to shake it loose.
My wolf, apparently.
I hadn’t confirmed that. I wasn’t going to confirm it. But I knew my own wolf the way I knew my own hands, and the description she had given — large, dark, furious — left very little room for alternative interpretations. My wolf had gone into a dreamscape I didn’t know existed and put himself between her and Caelum Vance without asking my permission, which was both exactly
