Dinner ends quietly, the kind of forced normal that sits heavy in the air when too many things have happened too fast, and by the time plates are cleared and people start drifting off toward their own corners of the packhouse, my shoulders ache with the effort of holding myself steady. Devin stays glued to the table longer than necessary, eyes tracking me like I might vanish if he looks away for too long, but I ignore it and make my excuses anyway, because I need space more than I need reassurance right now.
“I’m going to shower,” I say, already pushing back my chair.
Atticus looks up immediately, his attention sharpening even though his expression stays calm, and he nods once like he’s been expecting it. Axel is already gone on patrol, the bond carrying his presence like a steady backgr
