Third Person POV
The morning was overcast, clouds softening the light across the courtyard where Dean and Taryn stood barefoot in the grass.
“Breathe into the root,” Dean instructed, arms raised, slow and steady as he moved through the form. “Let your weight settle. Mind still. Shoulders soft.”
Taryn followed the movements, but he could see it—the stiffness in her joints, the distracted twitch of her eyes. Her balance faltered again.
Dean exhaled and broke the flow, standing still. “You’re somewhere else.”
Taryn dropped her arms and looked away. “Sorry.”
He waited. When she said nothing more, he gently added, “I haven’t seen your ring lately.”
That made her freeze.
Her hand subconsciously rubbed her bare finger before dropping back to her side. “I’ve been forgetting to put it on.”
