The room was quiet now. Too quiet.
Tristan's scent lingered in the air, a fading comfort that I tried to wrap myself in. But it didn’t stop the unease from crawling beneath my fur. My paws twitched restlessly, claws tapping against the wooden floor in a nervous rhythm. Every creak of the building made my ears flick. Every gust of wind sent a new wave of scent spiraling through the room, most of it familiar, but none of it calming.
I paced.
Back and forth. Around the bed. Near the window. Then back again.
My breathing was faster now, shallower. The tightness in my chest wasn’t physical—it was the kind of ache that wrapped around the ribs and wouldn’t let go. Something was wrong. I could feel it in the marrow of my bones, humming beneath my skin like a current of static.
King Rhovan.
H
