He took a step back, breath shaking slightly. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing once in a short, frantic arc before stopping to stare at her.
"Liora," he said again, more carefully this time, as though afraid of misusing the power—"stand."
She rose instantly.
His heart hammered.
He glanced around the courtyard, half-expecting someone to witness this moment, half-hoping someone would, because the truth was too heavy to hold alone.
The leaves rustled above them. The fortress walls loomed silent. No one else was there.
Just him.
And her.
And the weight of a bond stronger than anything their pack had ever known.
The air thickened as he stepped closer again, searching her face for any sign of resistance, awareness, or confusion.
There was none.
Liora's eyes were calm, quiet, open—a perfect reflection of loyalty and obedience she had never shown anyone in her life.
He exhaled shakily.
He wanted to be relieved.
He wanted to be grateful.
