Damien’s chest rose and fell once as if steadying himself. Then, with the same calm authority that had unsettled her moments ago, he stepped back.
“Breakfast and new clothes will be brought to you soon,” he said, his voice even but threaded with something gentler. “A maid will help you.”
Aurora swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She didn’t trust her voice enough to respond, so she only lowered her gaze, clutching the fabric tightly between her fingers.
As Damien turned, his eyes locked with Marcus’s. The silent weight between them was heavy, like words exchanged without sound. Aurora’s breath caught—she realized then it was the mind link, that quiet communication wolves shared. Whatever they were saying, Marcus’s brief nod told her it was important.
Damien’s hand brushed the door, and
