She winced, eyes closing as if my voice was another blade in her already frayed nerves.
I bit back the rest. No. She was already suffering. Yelling wouldn’t fix anything.
She whispered, “My father said I just need twenty-four hours without linking and I’ll be okay.”
I sat there, my hand still brushing her hair, my jaw clenched so tight it hurt. I wanted to scream. Shake her. Hold her tighter. Do something.
Instead, I breathed through it.
She’d made a call. A dangerous one. But she’d done it for the pack, for the people. And she was paying for it now.
I leaned down and kissed her forehead.
“Next time,” I said quietly, “you don’t go in alone. Not like that.”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Her hand reached for mine and held on, silent but steady.
Evening had settled in, casti
