I begin to move, not away from him but around him, my path taking me in a slow circle that encompasses my desk, the chair where he sat earlier, the space between window and door that defines the territory I've claimed as mine. The movement is instinctive, predatory, the wolf in me asserting the need to evaluate this potential ally from every angle before committing to trust. My heels click against the hardwood in a rhythm that matches the rain's percussion, creating a soundtrack for assessment that operates according to laws older than human civilization.
Lucas remains perfectly still as I circle, understanding intuitively that this evaluation requires his compliance rather than his participation. His hands rest loosely at his sides, posture neither defensive nor aggressive but simply pre
