The Quiet Between Storms
ORION I have faced armies. I have stood in blood. I have negotiated with men who wanted my throne. None of it has shaken me the way this morning does. When I wake, Briseis is already stirring beside me. The mark at her throat is visible in the soft light — my mark. It is still new, still healing, but it is there. Real. Permanent. I should feel victorious. Instead, I feel something heavier. Responsibility. Not ownership. Responsibility. She shifts slightly, and I tighten my arm around her instinctively. It is not conscious. It is survival. My wolf refuses to let distance form between us. The bond is steady now — no longer wild like it was the night before. It hums quietly beneath my skin, constant and grounding. I can feel her heartbeat through it. I can feel when her breathing
- Writer
