Chapter 11: Kael
Wren leaves the roomfirst.
She moves fast, too fast, like she needs to get away from all three of us before something inside her cracks.
I watch her retreat down the hallway, shoulders curled in, hoodie too big, hair swaying with each hurried step.
Something inside my chest twists.
Finn blows out a breath beside me.“She’s scared.”
Atlas’s jaw tightens.“She’s hiding something.”
Both true.
Both unacceptable.
I don’t answer them.
Because my own thoughts are too loud, too sharp, too focused on the way Wren wouldn’t meet my eyes for more than a heartbeat.On the way her voice trembled.On the way she looked at my hand like she wanted me to touch her — but also like one touch might shatter her.
I can’t stop replaying her face.
Fear and pride, mixed together in the way only someone who’s been hurt before can wear them.
I turn away from Finn and Atlas before either of them can read the expression on my face.
“Practice in ten,” I say.
Finn’s brows lift.“Kael—”
“Ten,” I repeat, and the edge in my voice kills the conversation.
They leave.
I stay.
I wait until the hallway clears before I follow the path Wren took.Not to chase her.Not to smother.
To confirm something.
A feeling.
