I don’t know how long I sit there surrounded by four men who look like they’d tear open the realms if it meant keeping me breathing.
Minutes. Hours. I don’t know. Time feels warped—like the air is choosing its own shape to fit around whatever is happening inside me.
Everything is too close.
Too loud.
My heartbeat thuds like it’s trying to catch a rhythm that keeps outrunning it. My wolf is pacing, scratching, snarling against the inside of my ribs. The wards hum around us in a low, metallic vibration, crawling under my skin.
The runes on my walls won’t stop pulsing.
Silver.
Then faint gold.
Then silver again.
Like they can’t decide which way to bend.
Callum’s hand stays wrapped around mine—steady, grounding, command bleeding through his touch. His thumb draws these slow circles o
