Zane had a system for his clear days.
I’d figured this out over the previous weeks without his telling me—Elara had mentioned it once in passing, and what she’d described aligned with what I’d noticed: on the days when he came to Aerie with his particular quality of still attention rather than the charged, edge-crackling energy that meant the collar was working hard, it was because he’d already been up for several hours doing something specific. Reading, she thought, or running. Something that occupied the physical system enough that the edge in him could settle.
Today, he appeared at my door shortly after midday, and I knew before he spoke it was a clear day.
Not because the collar’s hum was different, though it was—lower, more stable. Because of the way he knocked. Three times, no
