Jax returned before dawn.
I felt him before I heard him.
The moment he crossed into Montenegro territory, a subtle current brushed my spine. Not sharp. Not painful. Just awareness, like cool air slipping through an open window.
He did not come to the council chamber.
He did not report to Derek.
He came straight to me.
I was alone in the eastern hall when he stepped through the archway, boots heavy against stone. He looked the same as always — dark hair slightly disordered from wind, jaw tight, eyes too intense for most wolves to hold for long.
But something beneath the surface had shifted.
He closed the distance between us without speaking.
I watched him carefully.
“You felt it again,” I said.
It was not a question.
His jaw flexed once. “Yes.”
Not anger.
Not accusation.
Just
