The bond between Thane and me pulled tight, strained by the distance and by the choice he’d just made. I inhaled slowly, forcing air into lungs that wanted to fill with her, forcing my mind back into the shape of strategy.
The king might come. If he did, we would have one chance.
And I had just lost control of the only ally I trusted at my side.
Aveline
The door closed with a solid sound that reverberated through the stone, final and unmistakable.
I stood where the fair-haired alpha, Thane, had left me, my back pressed to the wall, breath coming too fast for the size of the room. The tower’s hum softened immediately, as if it approved of the separation, the space settling around us with a careful quiet that felt deliberate rather than empty.
He didn’t move closer.
That registered first, before anything else. He stayed several steps away from me, angled slightly to the side instead of facing me head-on, his sword still belted but his hands loose at his sides, palms open. His presence filled the room anyway, not because he crowded it, but because his scent did.
Warm leather. Cedar. Clean sweat and the faintest trace of hearth embers, as though he carried the memory of fire with him rather than smoke.
It washed over me slowly, not sharp or overwhelming the way it had been in the corridor when fear had spiked and my body had no idea where to put itself. This was different. Steady. Grounding. My lungs drew it in without effort, my shoulders lowering a fraction as my breathing eased.
The warmth under my ribs didn’t vanish, but it stopped climbing. The frantic edge dulled, turning into something quieter that sat heavy and low instead of sharp and panicked.
I slid sideways until the edge of my bed caught behind my knees and let myself sit, then curl, drawing my feet up beneath me. The blanket waited where I had left it, folded neatly at the foot of the bed. I dragged it around my shoulders and wrapped ittight, burrowing into the familiar weight and texture as if I could anchor myself there.
The alpha swore under his breath.
The sound startled me more than his raised voice earlier. It wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t directed at me. It was a quiet, frustrated sound that came from somewhere deep in his chest, like he’d just realized something had gone very wrong.
He turned and yanked the door open.
“Malric,” he snapped, his voice carrying down the narrow corridor. “Get the blankets from the nest you saw downstairs. Now.”
There was a pause. I couldn’t see Malric, but I could feel him, a pressure just beyond the door that made my stomach tighten again.
“That’s unnecessary,” Malric said, his voice clipped. “She already has?—”
“Now,” Thane repeated, flat as stone.
Another pause, heavier this time.
“I'm not debating this with you,” Thane added. “Move.”
Something in his tone must have landed, because a moment later I heard boots retreating down the stairwell, the sound sharp and irritated against the stone.
Thane shut the door again, harder than before, the impact echoing through the room. He leaned his forehead briefly against the wood, exhaled once through his nose, then turned back toward me.
“Sorry,” he said quietly. “He doesn’t get to decide what you need.”
The words settled strangely in my chest. No one had spoken to me like that or taken my needs into consideration in a long time. Perhaps ever. Except for the tower, but I wasn’t sure a stone structure, even a magical one, could count as caring forme. Certainly my father, the only other human I had seen in years, didn’t care about my comfort.
I hugged the blanket closer, fingers knotting in the fabric. “What…what’s happening?”
Thane didn’t answer immediately. He moved to the small table near the window and nudged it aside, clearing space, then crouched a few feet from the bed instead of sitting beside me. The distance was intentional, careful. He rested his forearms on his knees, hands loosely clasped, his gaze lifting to mine without trapping it.
“That depends. On what you want to know.”
I swallowed. My mouth went dry, my tongue thick.
“Who are you?” I asked. The question came out smaller than I intended. “How did you get here?”
