He studies me a moment.
“When you told me Ethan adored her, I didn’t realize the extent of it.” His voice is careful. “I’ve seen him with other pack members.” His pause is deliberate. “I’ve never seen him react to anyone the way he reacts to her.”
Because she’s his. The thought rises before I can shut it down. Pups know their parent’s fated mate before the parent does. They feel it through the bond. Mine recognized her in a park before I recognized her at all.
My face stays still.
He watches me a moment longer. Then he steps past me and claps a hand on my shoulder as he goes. The touch is light, firm, familiar.
“Be careful, Grayson.” His voice drops, meant for me only. “Be very careful, son.”
My body freezes.
Coach is already walking. The hand is gone. He’s moving down the tunnel toward the locker room at the same unhurried pace he uses for everything, while I’m standing in the half-shadow trying to remember how to breathe.
Does he know?
The question slams through me. He’s been in my life since I was nine. He raised me alongside Gabriel. There is no one who knows me better than him. There is a reason why Coach is one ofthe most respected alphas, even in the Council. He’s incredibly sharp. I should have considered it. I should have—
What does he know?
Asking him would be easy enough. Turning around right now and asking is an option.
I don’t take it.
He disappears around the corner. The corridor goes quiet. My exhale comes out slow. Rolling my shoulders, I tell myself that if Coach knew, the conversation wouldn’t have ended at be careful.
I really hope that’s true.
Miranda and Ethan are waiting at the family entrance. He’s asleep against her hip, one cheek mashed into her collarbone, ChuChu dangling from his fist. Her hair is coming out of her loose braid. When her eyes find me, her whole face softens, and for a second, I forget what I was just worried about.
“He’s out cold,” she whispers. “He made it through warmups and then crashed.”
“I’ll take him.”
“He’s fine. He isn’t heavy.”
“He’s twenty pounds of dead weight, Miranda.”
“He’s fine, I told you.”
A head-shake from me, and we walk to the car together. She buckles him in while I watch her do it. There’s a careful way her hand lifts his arm to slip the strap underneath, and she brushes his hair back from his forehead before she closes the door.
My chest feels too small for what’s inside it.
We drive home in the quiet. Ethan snores softly in the back. Miranda’s hand rests on the console between us. I want to reach for it.
“Are you okay?” she asks halfway home.
“What was that?”
“You’ve gone quiet. You’ve been quiet since practice.” A glance comes my way from her. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.”
“You look stressed.”
“I’m not stressed.”
