The cold settles in me, because he's right, the timing was too perfect to be chance, and it means Cass is closer and more informed than we let ourselves believe.
But that's a fear for later. Right now there's just the two of us in the dark boathouse, both bloody, both shaken, both alive, and something in the aftermath of nearly dying strips everything down to what matters, and what matters is him, hurt and grey against the wall, having thrown himself in front of me without a half-second's hesitation even when he had nothing left to fight with.
"You went down protecting me," I say quietly. "With the wolf buried and your body failing, you still put yourself between me and them. Without thinking. Every time. That's the thing I can't get past. You'd die for me without pausing to consider it,
