I meet him on a Tuesday.
It is not dramatic. There is no moment where the room stills or my wolf lifts its head like something inevitable has just entered my orbit. No crack of awareness. No instinctive tightening beneath my ribs. He is already there when I come in for my shift, leaning against the counter at the far end of the lobby, sleeves rolled up, speaking quietly with one of the maintenance supervisors as if he has been part of the background all along.
I almost miss him.
That alone tells me something.
He looks ordinary in the best way. Steady posture. Relaxed shoulders. No restless energy vibrating under his skin. No need to take up space or announce his presence. When he turns and notices me, his gaze meets mine briefly, politely, and then drops away again like it is the most
