Later, when the noise fades and the plates are cleared and the pack disperses back into evening routines, the three of us retreat upstairs without ceremony, and the quiet that follows the crowded kitchen feels softer rather than heavy.
The door closes behind us with a muted click, and for a moment none of us speak, because the day’s normalcy has left room for something that has been waiting beneath it.
Axel moves to the window and rests his palm lightly against the frame as if testing the boundary hum out of habit, and Atticus sits on the edge of the bed and rubs his temples once before lowering his hands to his knees.
The three of them alone.
The bond hums steadily but without strain.
“You nearly collapsed in the chamber,” I say quietly to Axel, because I saw the way his shoulders lo
