CONNOR

We watched Ash head upstairs in silence. She lowered her top and shifted to get comfortable. This felt like a nightmare—the kind that slammed into you without warning, leaving your mind reeling and your body trying to catch up.

She closed her eyes, but I could tell she wasn’t asleep. Her breathing was careful. Controlled. Like she’d learned to brace herself before things got worse.

I stayed seated a few feet away. Close enough that I could get to her if she needed help.

Far enough that I didn’t overwhelm her, she hadn’t flinched when I touched her, hadn’t pulled away when I spread the cream over her bruises.

But there was something in her stillness—guarded, like she’d wrapped herself in something tougher than skin.

I didn’t feel the mate bond. Not like before.

It had hit all three of us with Claire like a lightning strike to the chest. I still remember the look in her eyes—terror and fury all wrapped together. None of us had really wanted it. And that might’ve been the cruelest part.

But this… this wasn’t like that. Luna didn’t know us, didn’t even know herself. Ash felt it the moment he saw her. I watched it happen. That same stillness took over him—the kind that comes when you’ve just seen the rest of your life standing before you.

I’d braced for that familiar burn in my chest, the silent tether snapping taut. But all I felt was... tired.

Maybe I was too broken to feel it again. Perhaps I didn’t want to.

She stirred a little, wincing as she shifted onto her side. Her hand hovered over her ribs. Her fingers shook slightly before she clenched them into a fist. She made no sound: no flinch, no complaint—just quiet endurance. I didn’t know if it was bravery or habit.

I stood and went to the cupboard to get a blanket. A soft blue one that Claire had purchased. Every soft detail belonged to her. She’d needed beauty around her to survive the bond, like it could cover up the cracks we never fixed. I used to think it was for her. Now I thought it was for all of us.

“You should sleep,” I said quietly, to alert her to my presence.

She opened her eyes—not startled, just watchful. “I will.” I opened the blanket, and it billowed out over her.

I waited a beat. “Do you want something for the pain?”

She shook her head. “I’m okay. Thank you.”

Claire would’ve snapped at me by now and called me out for being overprotective, for hovering. Luna just… accepted it. She’d learned early that no one would come, so she didn’t dare push them away when someone finally did.

That terrified me more than any injury I could see. I wanted to know her history and what she liked and disliked. I wanted to hear her laugh. It had been a long time since I’d been…curious.

I watched her watching the stairs again.

“He’s okay,” I said, even though she didn’t ask.

“I know.” She exhaled slowly, eyes fluttering shut again. “He didn’t mean to be abrupt.”

“No. He’s—” I hesitated. “This is a lot. For him, too.”

She nodded, a shadow of guilt flickering across her face. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “For dragging this into your lives.”

“You didn't bring it to us.” Our enemy brought this to us, and fate.

I sat back on the couch, staring at the dying embers in the fireplace. This was the beginning of something, and I couldn’t tell if it was healing or unravelling.

She didn’t say anything else. Neither did I. But I didn’t leave her alone.

Sometimes, that was enough.