"I didn't ask if it was safe. I asked if you were okay." She smiled. Small. Tired. But real. "I'm not going anywhere, Lumi. You're stuck with me."
I pulled her into a hug. Held on tight.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"Don't thank me. Just don't get yourself killed." She hugged me back. "And maybe next time you're going to do something stupid, give me a heads up first."
"I'll try."
“And when you feel better–I have a million questions, but they can wait.”
I made it back to Stone's room just before dawn.
He was still in wolf form, but he was awake now—lying in the corner, his golden eyes tracking me as I entered.
Through the bond, I felt him. Tired. Confused. Still more animal than human.
But present. Aware.
Alive.
I settled into my usual spot—inside now, not outside. Close enough to touch him if he let me.
"Hey," I said softly. "I'm back."
His tail moved. Once. Twice.
Almost a wag.
I smiled. Let my head fall back against the wall.
Stone was alive. The bond was complete. My mates were angry and scared and grieving, but they were still mine. Ivy knew the truth and had chosen to stay.
Everything else was uncertain.
But for right now, in this moment, that was enough.
Chapter twenty-seven
Cole requested direct access on Thursday.
I was in Stone's room when Rae delivered the news, her expression carefully neutral in a way that told me she wasn't happy about it.
"The council has approved his request," she said. "He wants to observe your interactions with the ferals. Not through the glass. In the room with you."
Stone's head lifted from my lap. Through the bond, I felt his immediate tension—the hackles rising, the protective instinct surging.
"Why?"
"His report to the council is due in three days. He says he needs to understand the mechanism of your effect on them before he can make his final recommendations." Rae's jaw tightened. "I argued against it. The council overruled me."
"Twilson."
"Among others." She glanced at Stone, then back at me. "You can refuse. I'll find a way to justify it medically."
I thought about Cole. Those amber eyes that missed nothing. The way he'd watched me during the tour—not the ferals, but me. The questions he'd asked.
"No," I said. "Let him observe."
