The silence after Jack leaves doesn’t feel awkward, but it isn’t empty either, and I stand there for a moment longer than necessary, listening to the way the packhouse breathes around us while the bond hums low and steady beneath my ribs. Adam hasn’t moved from where he stopped just inside the door, his posture relaxed but attentive, and I know without looking that he’s giving me space on purpose.
“That went better than I expected,” I say finally.
“Yes,” he replies. “He cares about you, but he respects your boundaries.”
I glance at him. “You could tell that.”
“The bond didn’t react,” he says simply. “It stayed neutral.”
That still surprises me, how clearly he reads the shifts now, and I shake my head slightly as I move back toward the table and sit down, needing the grounding of solid
