I wake to the heat of summer spilling into my room, sweat clinging to my skin. My chest is tight, pulse heavy from dreams I can’t fully grasp. The voice in my head hums faintly, just beneath my thoughts, patient and watchful. It doesn’t speak yet, but I feel it there, alert and aware.
I swing my legs over the bed and stand. The floor is warm beneath my bare feet. Even in the stillness, I sense the subtle rhythms of the pack around me: quiet footsteps, soft murmurs, eyes flicking toward my door. They notice me. It isn’t fear. It isn’t curiosity. Not exactly. It’s something in between—watchfulness, like I’ve shifted the invisible balance without realizing it.
Asher isn’t here. Not in my line of sight. Not present where I can reach him. I feel the weight of his absence, deliberate and contr
