Bruce woke before dawn and lay still for a while.
The thread was warm in his awareness again.
He noticed it the way a person noticed their own breathing—not something he needed to focus on, simply something that was there. He had been in the Soul Realm for twelve days by his count, and this small new sensation—the thread as a constant companion rather than something he had to consciously reach for—was becoming an ordinary part of his existence.
He did not try to push along it this morning. He had decided the night before that he would only do so every few days.
For now, he simply let it remain and allowed his thoughts to wander.
He had three decisions to make today.
First: whether to tell Caelen about Mord's approach.
That decision had already been made. He would tell him.
Second: whether to meet with Grave Ondar.
That was less straightforward.
The old soul's counsel had been careful.
'Decide whether you are ready to be seen more fully than you have been seen so far.'
