Jace had barely shut the door behind him when the ache settled in my chest. Not the sharp kind. The slow, spreading kind that makes you question whether you’re holding on too tight—or not tight enough.
“He wants to stay,” I said aloud, like saying it would make it real.
Wolf didn’t answer right away. He was watching me, the way he does when he’s trying to decide whether to step in or let me unravel on my own. I hated that he knew me that well.
“He said it’s not about the club,” I added. “It’s about us.”
That got him. His jaw flexed, just once, and then he looked away.
“He’s fifteen,” Wolf said. “You know what that means.”
“I know exactly what that means,” I snapped. “It means he’s old enough to know what he wants but still young enough to think it won’t break him.”
Wolf sighed and c
