Ivy groaned. "I don't know how you two survive PE first thing in the morning. I'd die."
"You'd adapt," I said.
"I'd complain the entire time." She shrugged and grinned.
PE had been brutal—Reeves had us running laps until my legs burned—but at least James had been there to suffer alongside me.
Psychology was a blur of attachment theory and developmental stages.
James sat beside me, close enough that our arms brushed when we wrote.
I took notes without really processing them.
My mind kept drifting back to Stone.
Everything I couldn't feel before, I feel now.
"Miss Orlav?"
I blinked. Larkin was looking at me expectantly.
"I'm sorry. Could you repeat the question?"
"I asked for an example of compensatory attachment behavior."
My pen tapped against my notebook. "Hyper-independence. Learning to meet your own needs because relying on others feels too risky."
Larkin nodded slowly. "That's correct. And what's the therapeutic approach for someone exhibiting that pattern?"
"Consistent, patient presence. Proving over time that trust won't be punished."
"Exactly." Her eyes held mine a moment longer than necessary. "Well said."
Under the desk, James's hand found my knee. A silent acknowledgment that he'd heard what I wasn't saying.
The lecture continued. I went back to my notes and tried to focus.
Lunch was quieter than breakfast.
Ivy had a study group, so it was just James and me at our usual table. He'd gotten us both coffee—he knew I needed it by this point in the day.
"You're thinking about Stone," he said.
"Am I that obvious?"
"To me? Yes." He stirred his coffee, watching me. "What happened this morning?"
I told him. The staff member who moved too fast. The wolf surging up behind Stone's eyes. The way he'd asked me to leave.
James listened without interrupting. When I finished, he was quiet for a moment.
"He's not wrong," he said finally.
"About what?"
"About needing space." James set down his coffee. "The bond between you and Stone—it's intense. I feel it sometimes, the echo of it through our bond. That kind of connection can be grounding, but it can also be overwhelming. Especially for someone who's relearning how to be human."
"So I should stay away?"
