“How long did I sleep?”I ask.
“Most of the morning,” he answers.“Your body needed it.”
Needed it.Right.I’m not used to sleeping this much.Sleep wasn’t allowed.Not without consequences.
Silas watches me carefully now.He always watches me carefully, like I’m fragile, like I matter, like every shift of my breathing is important.It’s overwhelming and it’s safe.It’s too much and it’s not enough.
I don’t know how to hold all these feelings in one chest.
Silas stands slowly, stretching, rolling his shoulders.His shirt pulls tight across his back, and something uneasy stirs inside me, fascination or fear or something dangerous I’m not ready to name.
“Breakfast is coming soon,” he says.“Peyton is preparing something easy.”
My stomach twists.“I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ask,” he says softly.
I.Not the pack.Him.I clear my throat, pushing down the fluttering feeling.
“Can I...”I hesitate.“Can I see outside?”
His brows lift a little.“You want to go out?”
“No.”The word is too fast, too sharp.I shake my head.“Not out.Just ...see.From the window.I haven’t seen a forest in a long time.”
Understanding washes through his expression, softening the edges.
“Of course,” he murmurs.
He steps back, giving me a wide, unobstructed view of the window.I stand unsteadily and stare out through the glass.The sight hits me harder than expected.Trees.Real ones.Tall and rough-barked and swaying in the wind.Sunlight filtering through leaves.Birds darting between branches.
My leopard stirs for the first time with something that feels like longing.Home.Not this place.Not the pack.Not Silas.
Just nature.The wild.The open.I swallow a lump in my throat.
“You can get closer,” Silas says gently.
I step toward the window slowly, as if approaching something sacred.My fingers press against the glass.It’s cool under my palm.
“I used to live near a forest,” I whisper, barely aware I’m speaking.“I used to climb trees.I was good at it.”
His voice is low.“I can believe that.”
“I could jump high too.”Pride infuses my words as I remember my previous life.“The others said I climbed better than any leopard our age.”
The moment the words leave me, I freeze.The others.Silas doesn’t move but his expression shifts, just a little bit, careful and controlled.Curiosity.Concern.A question he doesn’t ask.
I step back quickly, blanket twisting between my fingers.“I ...I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Okay,” he says immediately.
Just like that.No pressure.No questions.No probing.My breath leaves me in a shaky exhale.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He nods once.“When you’re ready, you’ll tell me.Or you won’t.Either way is fine.”
I blink at him, stunned by how easily he says it.No one has ever given me that freedom.Not without strings.Not without expectation.I don’t understand him.I don’t understand why he stays.Why he looks at me like I’m not broken.Why his animal’s presence feels like warmth rather than threat.
