He wasn’t there all the nights she collapsed in her closet, clutching her sister’s blanket like a lifeline.
I was.
I’ve been with her since the beginning.
Love isn’t claws and fury; it’s knowing which drawer she hides her pain in. It’s folding her grief into origami and leaving it for her to find. It’s rewriting her story until my name is in every line.
When she finally stops fighting that truth, I’ll be waiting.
Palms open. Mouth hungry. And I won’t need a page from her journal to leave her love notes... I’ll use my tongue to trace them along her skin.
Andrik-
I told her five minutes—and I meant it. But something’s gnawing at my gut. Something was in here while we were searching the rooftop.
I don’t know how I know. I just do.
“I can’t smell them,” I mumble, mostly to myself. “But they were here, and they’re still close.”
Rage like I’ve never known it courses through my chest, rattling the cage I already hold shut with fraying restraint.
They were in her space while we were right outside.
“Andrik?” Her voice cuts in softly. “What is it? You look angry.”
‘“Angry doesn’t touch what I feel.” My voice is low, shaking. “They were back in your apartment. I can’t explain how I know, but I do. They’re playing cat-and-mouse with us.”
Before she can speak, I push forward.
“We need to go—now. I don't want them watching you longer than they already have. Grab whatever you want, but you’re not coming back anytime soon.”
Thankfully, she doesn't argue with me this time. She can see on my face how serious this is.
How thethrahkam I supposed to protect her when I can’t track them?
No scent. No trace.
How are they watching her?
She throws some clothes into a bag while I sweep through the bathroom for essentials—her brush, contacts, and a few other necessities. I walk back into the room just in time to see something bright purple sticking out of her bag.
“Really?” I ask. “That’s something you need?”
She doesn’t miss a beat.
“Andrik, if I don’t have this, I will lose my mind. Leave my emotional support animal alone.”
I blink. “Pretty sure emotional support animals don’t require charging.”
She zips the bag with a smirk. “Do you want me to die in the forest, Andrik? I’ll be ovulating in four days. It’s this—or it’s you.”
She winks at me.
I don't even have words.
“That’s what I thought,” she goes on. “You don't want this bond, which means you won't touch me. Because if you do, it’ll snap into place. So the vibrator is coming with us.”
I move quickly, scooping her up.
