"Stone—"
"Go to breakfast." His voice was carefully controlled. "You have class. I'll be here when you get back."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to push.
But I could feel through the bond that he needed space. Needed to rebuild the walls that kept him functional.
"I'll come back this afternoon," I said.
"I know." Almost a smile. "You always do."
Ivy was waiting in the dining hall.
She'd claimed our usual table by the windows, her tray loaded with enough food to feed three people, her dark hair piled in a messy bun that was already falling apart. When she saw me, she waved her fork like a weapon.
"You look like death," she announced as I sat down.
"Good morning to you too."
"It's not a good morning. It's a 'my best friend is running on four hours of sleep and probably hasn't eaten since yesterday' morning." She pushed a plate toward me. "Eat. Now. Before I force-feed you."
I took the plate. Toast, eggs, fruit. More than I wanted, but arguing with Ivy was pointless.
"How's the scary wolf man?" she asked, quieter now.
"Which one?"
"The scariest one. The one you sneak off to see before dawn when you think I'm sleeping."
I bit into the toast. Chewed.
"Stone's struggling," I admitted. "The breakthrough was real, but... being human is hard for him. Harder than being the wolf."
Ivy's expression softened. "That actually makes sense. The wolf doesn't have to think about trauma. The human does."
"Yeah." I set down the toast. "I don't know how to help him. I can ground him when he starts to slip, but I can't fix what's broken."
"Maybe that's not your job."
I looked at her.
"I'm just saying." She shrugged. "You can't save everyone by yourself. Even if you really, really want to."
She wasn't wrong. But that didn't make it easier.
A shadow fell across the table. James slid into the seat beside me, his tray loaded with food.
"Morning." He pressed a kiss to my temple, then studied my face. "You okay?"
"Stone had a rough night."
"I felt it through the bond. You were restless." His hand found mine under the table, squeezed. "Want to talk about it?"
"Later. After classes."
James nodded, accepting. That was one of the things I loved about him—he knew when to push and when to wait.
"We should head out soon," he said. "Reeves hates when people are late."
