Nicole closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather herself, but the words forced their way out in a whisper:
"I can feel the change in you, Jasper."
His breath hitched.
"Change," he repeated.
"You've… been distant. Cold. Your eyes…" She lifted a trembling hand to brush under his lashes. "They stay black longer than violet now."
Jasper stiffened, subtle but unmistakable.
"And when you come upstairs late," she continued softly, "you hold me like you're trying to remember how…"
A crack formed in her voice.
"…how to be gentle."
Silence stretched between them. Thick. Heavy. Crippling.
Jasper didn't move. Didn't blink. He just stared at her, as if the wrong breath might shatter the moment.
Nicole's voice fell to a fragile whisper. "I'm trying not to assume the worst. I'm trying to trust you. But the ritual… the corruption… what Edward said—"
Jasper's eyes snapped sharply.
"What," he said slowly, each syllable a warning, "did Edward tell you?"
