Downstairs, I watched Anastasia leave without a word, and something inside me tightened in a way I didn't like. It wasn't fear exactly—more like the instinctive unease of a bonded male sensing a shift in the emotional field of his mate. Even without a formal marking, the tension between us had started behaving like one.
I didn't understand it.
I'd handled negotiations between rival packs, hostile territories, even Alpha disputes without hesitation. Yet one woman turning cold on me felt more destabilizing than any of that.
I didn't stay downstairs long.
I followed her scent trail upstairs instead, bypassing the need for words or explanation. The villa was quiet except for the faint presence of Jared's energy signature drifting from another room—stable, occupied, harmless.
When I reached the second-floor den, she was already there.
