Aisha didn’t sleep.
Every time she closed her eyes, the elders’ words echoed back at her—ownership, instinct, loss of control.
They tangled with her memories of Callen: the way he stood between her and danger, the way he never touched her even when everything in him seemed to strain toward it.
By morning, she was exhausted and raw.
That was when Amara found her.
“Hey,” Amara said lightly, appearing in the doorway of the sitting room like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t watched all of this unfold from the sidelines. “You disappeared last night.”
Aisha looked up from the couch. “I needed air.”
Amara’s gaze sharpened for just a second before she masked it with concern. “Dad can be… intense,” she said. “Especially when elders get in his head.”
Aisha flinched at the word dad, the
