“It’s nothing,” I say, too quickly maybe, but I don’t take it back, because some things are mine, and I’m not ready to bleed them out on a hospital bed. “I’ve just… heard of it.”
Atticus studies me, his gaze steady and thoughtful, like he knows there’s more there but he’s choosing not to push, and that earns him something small and reluctant in my chest, a flicker of appreciation I don’t quite know what to do with.
“If you ever want to ask about it,” he says, “we’ll answer.”
I nod, grateful he doesn’t ask right now, and shift the conversation before my thoughts spiral somewhere dark.
“So what about you two?” I say, tilting my head slightly despite the ache, “Besides being… twins and apparently my mates. Who are you, actually?”
Axel exhales softly, like he’s been waiting for that quest
