Gavin's POV
Waiting was worse than losing her.
Losing her had been clean and final, something he could turn into anger and bury under pride. Waiting left too much space, too much silence, too many moments where nothing happened and his mind filled it anyway.
Gavin stood at the edge of the training grounds, watching the warriors move through drills that required focus he didn't have. Steel clashed, commands were given, and bodies moved, but none of it held his attention.
Because beneath it all, he felt it again.
Faint, but there.
His jaw tightened. It wasn't imagination. It was her.
The connection didn't snap into place like before. It didn't burn or tear. It lingered, like something brushing past him without stopping. His breath slowed as he registered the difference
