The forest still trembled from violence when Alessandro felt it.
Not the clash of claws.
Not the copper sting of blood drying in his fur.
Her breath.
Returning.
Faint.
Fragile.
But real.
He staggered back a single step as the bond shifted from rage to something softer and infinitely more dangerous—hope.
Uff—
The sound tore from him before he could stop it.
Lucien stood opposite him, chest heaving, eyes bright and feral beneath the moonlight.
"You felt that," Lucien murmured, voice hoarse from battle.
Alessandro did not deny it.
He did not answer at all.
Because the truth was not for Lucien.
It was for the clearing behind him.
For the wolves who had watched their Alpha bleed and refuse to fall.
For the elders who had insisted protocol mattered more than instinct.
For the bond that had nearly died with her heartbeat.
His breathing slowed.
Not from exhaustion.
From decision.
He shifted.
The transformation did not come violently this time.
