The morning sun filters through the sheer curtains of our suite, casting long, golden rectangles across the hardwood floor. I am sitting on the edge of the bed, a cup of tea warming my hands. Beside me, Kade is awake, his physical presence a steady, grounding warmth against my side. Through the merge, I can feel his thoughts drifting lazily, cataloging the perimeter checks, the medical reports, the structural integrity of the rebuilt quiet room.
It is a peaceful morning. But the peace is fragile, like thin ice over a deep, dark lake.
The heavy oak door creaks open.
Asher stands in the doorway. He is dressed in his training clothes, but his posture is wrong. His shoulders are slumped, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. The vibrant, chaotic energy that usually precedes him is entirel
