“Damon knows about Tessa.”
Silence. Sharp. Immediate. Conrad’s expression hardens.
“How much?” he asks.
“I don’t think he understands the bond fully,” I say. “But he understands enough to use it.”
“That’s enough,” Conrad mutters.
I don’t disagree. Because it is. Always is.
I don’t wait for permission. I head straight for the bookstore. Again. Because that’s where she is. Again. The bell slams when I push inside harder than intended.
“Tessa—”
She looks up instantly. And I see it. She’s not startled. Not surprised. Just ready.
“We need to talk,” I say.
She exhales slowly. “That’s never a good sentence.”
“It’s necessary,” I reply.
Her gaze sharpens slightly.
“What happened?”
I hesitate. Just a fraction. Then decide she deserves the truth.
“Damon knows about you,” I say.
The room changes instantly. Not physically. But something in the air tightens.
“Knows… how?” she asks carefully.
“Enough,” I reply. “Enough to target you if he wants leverage.”
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t step back. Just absorbs it. Then?—
“Of course he does,” she says.
That’s not fear. That’s acceptance. And that somehow unsettles me more.
“You’re not safe alone,” I say.
“I haven’t been safe alone since this started,” she replies.
“That doesn’t mean we ignore it.”
“I’m not ignoring it,” she says. “I’m functioning inside it.”
A beat. Then softer?—
“So what now?”
I look at her. Really look. I don’t just see my mate. I see the center of the storm. The anchor point. The pressure point Damon just named. And I hate that he’s not wrong.
“We prepare,” I say.
