On My Terms
The scent of rain clung to the trees as dawn crept into the forest, soft and golden. Mist hovered above the earth like breath held between lovers, silent and expectant. Birds chirped timid greetings, unaware of the decision that hung in the air between two wolves sitting beneath an ancient pine.
Rowan hadn’t moved in hours.
Caleb hadn’t let go of his hand.
They’d sat there, not speaking much, sharing warmth more than words. When the rain had stopped, Caleb had leaned back against the tree, eyes distant, thoughts churning. Rowan had waited, patient and quiet, because he knew whatever came next had to belong entirely to Caleb.
Now, as the first full light of day stretched across the forest floor, Caleb exhaled and let go of Rowan’s hand.
Not out of rejection—but resolve.
“
