Light filtered weakly through the shutters, thin and pale, but even that was too bright for a mind still clinging to sleep. Gideon's eyes flickered open, the quiet hum of the castle around him barely noticeable against the rhythm of his thoughts.
Henrietta.
The memory hit first, where her spine arched instinctively, the wolf surging beneath her skin, and the way she had grounded herself, even as instinct demanded otherwise.
He had watched, had guided, had restrained the impulse to intervene too much, but even now, hours later, he could feel the echo.
It wasn't admiration, at least not in any simple sense.
It was... awareness.
Recognition.
The wolf she carried had risen fully, in control yet fierce, and in doing so, she had marked him without intention.
He swung his legs over the be
