AIDEN
There is a point where instinct becomes noise. Not loud from the outside, but constant from the inside, like someone pressing a hand against your spine and telling you to move forward even when you know you should stay still. That is what being near Claire has become, and now that she knows the truth, the restraint feels different. Not forced. Chosen.
That difference matters more than I expected.
We leave the room together after our conversation, neither of us speaking for several minutes. She walks ahead by a step or two, arms folded lightly, not defensive but thoughtful. The mark sits quiet beneath her clothes, not burning the way it did before, just humming. Stabilized. That alone takes pressure off my chest.
I stay behind her, close enough to catch her scent, far en
