He said nothing.
His attention wasn't on the ferals. Not really. He watched them the way you'd watch a meter—checking readings, noting responses—but his focus kept returning to me. To the way I positioned myself near each window. To the way my presence changed the energy in the corridor.
I should have found it unnerving. Being studied like a specimen. Being evaluated by someone who hadn't bothered to explain his criteria.
Instead, I found myself standing straighter. Meeting his gaze when I caught him looking. Refusing to be the first to look away.
Something flickered in his expression. Not quite a smile. But close.
A healer approached with a question about medication schedules. She addressed Rae, but her eyes flickered to me before she spoke. Checking. Looking for some kind of cue I didn't realize I was giving.
Rae answered the question. The healer nodded and left.
Cole watched the exchange without comment. But I saw his eyes follow the healer's glance toward me. Saw him file the information away.
"The gray wolf is the subject who achieved partial recovery," Rae said. "Four seconds of sustained human form. Clear signs of recognition and awareness before reversion."
Cole stepped closer to the window. His shoulder nearly brushed mine as he moved—close enough that I caught his scent. Something clean and warm, like cedar and sunlight.
I stepped back. Irritated at myself for noticing.
"How old?" Cole asked.
The question was directed at me. Not at Rae. At me.
"The testing estimates mid-twenties to late twenties," I said carefully. "Based on physical development."
"All of them?"
"All five fall within a similar range. Twenty-five to twenty-seven."
Cole nodded slowly. His eyes were still on the gray wolf, but I could feel his attention like a physical weight. "When did the instability begin?"
"We don't know exactly. They were found in a feral state. There's no documentation of when they—" I stopped. Reconsidered. "There's no documentation we've been able to access."
Something shifted in Cole's posture. Subtle. Most people wouldn't have noticed.
I noticed.
"How long have they been contained here?"
"Five weeks. A little more."
"And before that?"
"In the wild. For years, we think. Maybe longer."
Cole turned to look at me directly. This close, I could see flecks of gold in his amber eyes. Could see the faint scar that traced along his jawline, almost hidden by the angle of his face.
"You spend a great deal of time with them," he said. It wasn't a question.
"Yes."
"Why?"
I thought about the bond. About Stone's pain bleeding through into my chest. About the way the gray one had reached for Cal in those four impossible seconds.
"Because someone should," I said.
