Cole studied me for a long moment. His expression gave nothing away, but there was something in his stillness that felt different now. Less clinical. More... personal.
"Show me the last one," he said.
Stone's room was at the end of the corridor. Separate from the others. The most reinforced. The most monitored.
The most dangerous.
I felt him before we reached the door. His end of the bond was churning—dark and turbulent, like storm clouds gathering on the horizon. He'd sensed the stranger's approach. Sensed the unfamiliar presence in his territory.
And he didn't like it.
"This subject has shown the least improvement," Rae said as we stopped outside the observation window. "Consistent aggression. Minimal response to treatment protocols. However, he has demonstrated decreased hostility toward Lumi specifically."
Stone was pacing when I looked through the window. Back and forth, back and forth, his movements tight and controlled. His eyes found me immediately—locked on, tracking, the only stable point in his restless circuit.
I pressed my palm against the glass. A habit now. A ritual.
His pacing slowed. Just slightly. Just enough to notice.
Then Cole stepped into his line of sight.
The change was instantaneous.
Stone's hackles rose. His lips pulled back from his teeth. A growl rumbled through the barrier—low and constant, building in intensity. His pacing didn't slow now. It accelerated. Tighter circles. Sharper turns.
Through the bond, I felt something building. Not just anger—though there was anger, always anger—but something else. Something desperate. Something that felt less like rage and more like terror given teeth.
"Stone." I kept my voice calm. Kept my hand pressed against the glass. "It's okay."
But he wasn't listening. Through the bond, I felt his control fragmenting. Felt the pressure building toward an explosion he couldn't stop.
He threw himself against the barrier.
The impact made everyone flinch. Everyone except Cole, who simply stepped back, his expression unchanging. Watchful. Cataloging this too.
Stone hit the barrier again. And again. His movements weren't controlled anymore—they were frantic, wild, his body slamming into the reinforced surface with a force that had to be damaging him.
But this wasn't rage. I understood that now, feeling what churned through the bond.
This was collapse.
His mind was fragmenting under the pressure of too much fear, too much threat, too much everything. He wasn't attacking the barrier because he wanted to hurt anyone. He was attacking it because he didn't know what else to do. Because the only response left to him was destruction.
Including self-destruction.
Blood smeared the transparent surface where he'd split the skin above his eye. More blood on his shoulder, reopening wounds that had barely healed from his last episode. His movements were slowing now—not from calm, but from exhaustion. His body was giving out even as his mind kept screaming.
"We need to sedate him," Rae said. Her voice was tight. Controlled.
"No." I didn't look away from Stone. "Give me a minute."
"Lumi—"
"One minute."
I pressed my forehead against the glass. Closed my eyes. Pushed everything I had through the bond—not words, because there were no words. Just presence. Just the feeling ofI'm here. I'm still here. I'm not leaving.
Stone hit the barrier one more time. A weak impact. Barely a tap compared to what had come before.
