He knew the moment the boundary gave way.
Not by sight.
Not by scent.
By silence.
The kind that settled when the forest stopped pretending it was empty.
Alessandro's hand tightened against the bark beside him until the wood cracked beneath his grip with a dry, splintering sound that seemed indecently loud in the stillness.
Damn it—
The bond had already begun to drag at him.
Pulling.
Urgent.
Not fear—
Pain.
Her pain.
It came through sharp enough to make his jaw lock.
"Shit…"
His breath fogged once in the cold before steadying again as he stepped forward into the clearing that had once ended a war neither of them had survived unchanged.
The memory came without permission.
Mud.
Rain.
Blood turning the ground slick beneath clawed feet.
Lucien standing opposite him—smiling even then.
A bastard in silk who never dirtied his hands unless it amused him.
Now—
He stood there again.
Perfectly composed.
Perfectly still.
As though this were not a boundary.
