DEEPER
Things shifted after the full moon.
Not dramatically. Not in ways someone watching from the outside would easily name. But the texture of us changed. The careful distance we had been maintaining,the constant awareness of space, timing, and restraint began to soften. Not all at once. Not cleanly. Just enough to notice.
He started having breakfast at the same time as me.
That sounds small. It wasn’t.
In the weeks since my return, he had taken his meals early, before the house fully woke, as if claiming a portion of the day that belonged only to him. Now he was at the kitchen table at eight with coffee, and I was there too, and we talked.
Not about territory. Not about Ashvale. Not about politics or bloodlines.
Just talked.
He told me about the pack while I had been gone,not th
