Aaron
Jason remains where he is, still as a post.
I don’t look away first.
Neither does he.
For a long moment, the gym is just the two of us and the echo of what almost happened. The heat still ghosting the air, the sharp, metallic edge of restraint snapping back into place. The padded wall behind me smells faintly of sweat and warm salt and something more dangerous: unfinished instinct.
Then Jason speaks.
Careful.
Measured.
Like stepping onto ice he knows will hold, but only if he doesn’t rush.
“Is she safe?”
Not from me.
Not from the pack.
Not from Bethany.
Just..
Safe.
The question lands heavier than accusation ever could.
My throat tightens once, then steadies.
“Yes,” I say. “She is.”
Jason holds my gaze.
Gamma eyes don’t blink first. They don’t flinch. They don’t so
