I slipped out of bed carefully, easing from under his arm with the same attention I gave delicate glasswork. He didn’t stir, though I assumed he was exhausted. The kind of bone-deep tired that came from carrying a kingdom and never asking anyone to help.
In the bathing chamber, I went through my usual routine. Quick wash, nothing elaborate. I wasn’t avoiding anything, just maintaining the normal routine that kept me grounded.
The mirror caught my attention as I rinsed my mouth, and I stopped, studying my reflection.
My expression had changed. The defensive set to my shoulders had eased. The analytical distance I’d maintained between myself and everything else had softened around the edges.
Evidence accumulated whether I wanted it to or not. The flowers he’d picked and forgotten to water. The way he’d turned back early from patrol because his wolf wouldn’t settle. Him on the mop, arms tight around me, making small sounds of terror he’d deny if I ever brought them up. Thrusting his body between me and the bear without a heartbeat’s hesitation.
I’m glad it was you.
The little wooden wolf he’d carved as a child, kept in a drawer for thirteen years, now sitting on the shelf where it could be seen. I’d moved it there without thinking. He’d never mentioned it. Neither had I. But I understood now. Some things didn’t need words. They just needed to be brought out of the dark and put somewhere the light could reach them.
His arm pulling me close on the balcony when the cold air raised goosebumps on my skin.
The researcher in me couldn’t argue with data this clear.
I gripped the edge of the basin, meeting my eyes in the dim light.
I was falling in love.
The admission arrived like a secret whispered in the earth, with none of the dramatic fanfare I’d expected. I’d pretty much told Acorn days ago, but this went deeper. I wasn’t wondering anymore. I was past that stage now.
I walked over to the door. I should retreat to the laboratory, fill the hours before sunrise with work, and maintain the distance that had always kept me safe.
Instead, I remained in the bedroom.
Feral lay exactly as I’d left him, one arm stretched across the space where I’d been. The gray light through the windows caught in his dark hair, making it look softer than it did during the day when he was a male of sharp edges and controlled power.
I stood beside the bed, studying him the way I studied everything, except my clinical distance had fled.
His hair fell across his forehead, thick and sleep-mussed. The tension he carried through his jaw and shoulders had disappeared, leaving his features unguarded in a way they never were when the sun was up. A thick scar cut across his collarbone. I didn’t know the story behind it, but I wanted to.
The weight of what I felt landed fully.
This man carried an entire kingdom alone. He’d been doing it since he was nineteen, too young and unprepared for something like that. He’d run borders he didn’t feel ready for until the land recognized him even when he didn’t recognize himself.
I recognized him now, and that was the scary part.
Love. Just that. Simple and complicated and terrifying in equal measure.
I didn’t flee from it or try to logic it away. The old Victoria would’ve reduced it to variables I could control. The new Victoria held it, worried it would break if I squeezed it too tight.
I wanted to be someone he ran to, not just a convenience who solved his problems.
So I climbed back into bed.
The mattress dipped under my weight. I moved close, mirroring last night’s position but with full wakefulness behind every choice. His warmth drew me in. The steadiness of him pulled at the strings holding my heart together. I worried one tug would make me unravel.
I tucked myself against his side, resting my hand on his chest. His heartbeat drummed against my palm.
Holding my breath, I waited to see if this woke him, half-hoping it would.
From the sitting room, Acorn’s soft snores drifted through the cracked-open door. The sound made all the tension in my chest ease.
I listened to Feral breathe and let myself want this without immediately building a logical defense around it.
His breathing changed. The rhythm shifted enough that I knew he was rousing. The slight tension returned to his frame, muscle by muscle, as consciousness claimed him.
