"Where were you going?" he asked gently, voice strained. "Why do you look like you've just seen a ghost?"
He stopped just inches away, his nose flaring ever so slightly.
Ryley's breath caught again when he noticed it too late.
Clyde had caught the scent. Faint—but undeniably Ryder's.
The Alpha's jaw clenched, and the air between them thinned to ice.
But he didn't move. Didn't yell. He simply looked at Ryley—quiet devastation bleeding through his eyes.
The book slipped from Ryley's grasp and hit the floor with a muted thud, its spine snapping slightly as pages fluttered like wounded wings.
The blond stood there, trembling, shoulders rising with each shallow breath.
Another tear slipped down the curve of his cheek, catching the dim light like glass.
"No… no…" His voice was nothing but a ghost of breath. "Don't look at me like that...."
Don't look at me with those eyes…
Eyes that burned through him—soft, searching, haunted.
