The morning sunlight through the window angles right into my face and I jolt awake, heart pounding against my ribs, hands clenching the thin blanket before I remember where I am. Silverpaw Academy. My room, shared with Jax. Not home; just stone walls, morning chill, institutional quiet. But something’s off. The room feels hollow, like a breath held too long. There’s no slow cadence of another sleeper across the narrow gap, just silence, absolute and brittle.
My gaze skims to Jax’s bed. The covers are pulled tight, corners undisturbed, a pillow without the faintest dent to suggest a head. Not slept in, not even a restless toss. Jax hasn’t come back. My skin prickles, memory tripping over itself—the run in the fog, Jax’s arms locking around my waist to steady me, the quick brush of his brea
