“I know. But you should go.” She leaned forward. “The fastest way to kill a rumor is to be boring in public. Show up. Stand there. Drink something that looks fruity. Let people see you’re still you.”
She wasn’t wrong.
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
“That’s all I want.” Ivy stood, tray in hand, her armor snapping back into place. “Class in fifteen. Don’t be late. Tomlinson is hunting weaknesses.”
She paused. Looked down at me with an expression I couldn’t quite name.
“Whatever happened,” she said quietly, “I’m glad you came back.”
Then she was gone, weaving through the tables, leaving me with cooling soup and the weight in my bones.
Eat. Stand. Smile. Be normal.
My body remembered none of those things.
A shadow fell across the table.
James slid into the seat beside me.
“Ready?” he asked softly.
I wasn’t. But I nodded anyway.
He didn’t touch me. Just sat close, a quiet line drawn without words.
“You didn’t have to come today,” he said.
“I know.”
“You’re allowed to take more time.”
I swallowed. Looked at my hands. “He’s calmer.”
James stilled.
“The bond,” I clarified. “It’s steadier. Quieter.” I hesitated. “He doesn’t feel lost anymore.”
James waited. He was good at that.
“I’ve been calling him North,” I said. “Because that’s where I found him. Farther north than anyone was supposed to go. And because I couldn’t keep thinking of him asthe feral. It felt like giving up on him.”
James’s expression softened, just a fraction.
“He shifted back once,” I said. “And for a second, I thought we’d lose him.”
My fingers curled reflexively against my palm. “His heart rate spiked. His breathing went ragged. The bond—” I stopped. “It was too much for him. All of it at once.”
James didn’t interrupt.
“But he didn’t panic,” I continued. “Not the way I was afraid he would.” I closed my eyes. “He pressed his nose into my hand like he was anchoring himself. Like if he let go, he’d disappear.”
I hadn’t hummed on purpose. The sound had just slipped out of me. But North had gone still when he heard it. His breathing had slowed. His weight had settled.
“He stayed,” I said quietly. “Even when everything in him was telling him to run.”
Hope was a dangerous thing. I felt it anyway.
