The air in the room feels stale, heavy with worry and the scent of coffee gone cold. Red has been losing sleep over this—same as everyone else.
I can barely breathe most days. All I can think about is Tobias.
Ever since I got back from Prodigy, he’s been… off. I can’t explain it really, but he’s quieter. Distant. I don’t think it’s the fated mate news, because he still smiles when I catch his eye. But every time I reach for him, it’s like there’s a piece of him now that is somewhere beyond me. I can feel it. Like something inside him is turning away.
And I don’t know how to fix it.
“Taren and Neal are on their way to Prodigy to raid a private archive. She thinks they’ll find something there. Until then, we just keep doing what we’re doing, yeah?”
The room goes still again, and I feel everyone’s attention flick toward me. I grit my teeth. This is on my shoulders more than anyone else’s. I should be the one helping Tobias. Protecting him. Finding answers.
I’m letting him down.
“Yeah,” I say, voice low.
Sage shifts the conversation to territory checks, who’s going where tonight, but I barely hear it. Every instinct in me screams that I’m missing something, that Tobias’s silence isn’t just fatigue or fear or guilt.
I step outside and toss my clothes onto the chair before shifting. The forest is my reset button. Always has been.
Cold air fills my lungs as I break into a run, paws beating the ground until the sound of my heartbeat drowns everything else out. The frozen earth is cold against my toes, but I keep going. I run until the burn in my legs matches the tightness in my chest.
Above me, a raven flies in a low circle, and I try to focus on that, on the sounds of the forest, but thoughts of Tobias won’t let me go. The way he’s been shying away from some things and leaning in hard with others—mostly sex. His sex drive is a workout of its own. But with the new barriers, it’s hard to know if it’s really him craving me or if he’s just using it as a distraction from something else.
His nightmares have returned too. Tobias has woken up every night since I went to Prodigy, muttering things about his mother. Each time, it takes longer and longer to pull him out of them.
I pick up speed, lungs burning now. The wind cuts through the trees, cold and sharp, like it wants to flay me open.
You’re not losing him, I tell myself.That won’t happen.
By the time I circle back to the house, a couple of hours have slipped by. My pulse still thrums in my ears as I shift and yank my clothes on. Steam floats up from my heated skin.
Warmth greets me as I push through the door, as well as the mouth-watering scent of fresh bread.
Grant folds his arms over his chest, blocking me from the stairs. “You know the rule. No solo runs.”
“I stayed at the edge of the trees. It was fine.”
He growls. “Take someone next time.”
I wipe sweat from my neck and head upstairs, thinking maybe I’ll shower before I check on Tobias. With any luck, he’s editing photos or back inthe darkroom again. He hasn’t been back in there since before I went to Prodigy.
The hall light flickers faintly when I reach the second floor, and I slow when I get to our room.
The door’s mostly closed. Just enough of a gap for me to hear the low murmur of Tobias’s voice.
At first I think he’s on the phone, but Tobias hasn’t asked to call anyone since he’s been here. There’s no answering sound, no rhythm of conversation. Just his voice, soft and frayed at the edges.
“I don’t… I don’t know,” he says. A pause. Then, quieter, “I’m… stop.”
My breath seizes.
He sounds… scared.
I take a half step closer, heart pounding. I can hear him pacing, see his shadow moving on the far wall through the narrow crack of the door.
“Please, just stop. I can’t—stop!”
The words catch, breaking on a breath that’s almost a sob.
