Tristan
I stood outside Isla's door, my hand hovering over the handle, frozen in indecision.
Through the mate bond, still new and raw between us, I could feel the waves of her grief washing over me like a physical force. Each sob that escaped her tore at something inside me, something I'd thought long buried beneath duty and ruthlessness.
My wolf side paced restlessly within, urging me to go to her, to comfort our mate. But the rational part of me knew better. I was the source of her pain, the architect of her misery. My presence would only make things worse.
So I stood there, listening to her cry, feeling each tear as if it were my own. The bond between us had formed faster, stronger than I'd anticipated. I hadn't expected to feel her emotions so acutely, to be so affected by her pain
