“No,” he admitted. “I don’t. It’s devastating.”
Thane had not moved.
The broken chair leg lay at his feet.
His hands were empty now, curled into fists, and his eyes were fixed on the bathroom door with the kind of restraint that looked less like patience and more like a man holding a war inside his ribs.
I knew the feeling.
Goddess, I knew it too well.
Because I wanted to cross that room.
I wanted to put my hand against the door and ask her to open the bond again. To let us back in. To stop leaving us outside our own need like we had not already spent a lifetime starving for things we were not allowed to touch.
I wanted her safe.
I wanted her fed.
I wanted her checked by a doctor, wrapped in clean clothes, surrounded by her family, breathing easy in a room where nothing hunted he
