He remembered my birthday.
Why?
Had I meant that much to him?
Even before my reveal as a wolfless nobody, my birthday was never a big event. And Adam and his brothers had always been… at best, civil.
A polite "hello" here, a nod there, maybe a fleeting smile or a wink if the mood suited them. Nothing more. Our exchanges were never deep, never intimate.
Considering the difference in status, I hadn't expected anything beyond that surface-level civility. And yet—he remembered my birthday.
I tore my eyes away from the haunting intensity of his gaze, fixing them instead on a pair of slippers neatly by the bed. They looked ridiculously comfortable, as though made for feet that never had to walk barefoot across stones or mud.
