The hospital door closed between us.
I continued walking because Hannah had told me to leave.
My wolf did not understand obedience when every step carried us farther from her.
He pressed against my skin, demanding that I turn around. The bond stretched through the walls behind me, carrying pieces of Hannah I had no right to feel.
Grief.
Pain.
Fear.
And beneath all three, a pull toward me she hated as much as she hated the person attached to it.
I reached the end of the hallway.
The ringing inside her sharpened.
I felt it through the bond—not as sound, but as pressure. A thin vibration scraping through her mind.
Then it stopped.
The relief was immediate.
Not because of me.
I turned toward the closed room.
The dark-haired boy had taken her hand again.
Elias.
I had heard Hann
