The screen blinked into darkness, cutting me off from Mira and Gabe's chaotic firestorm of passion, and for a moment, the absence of sound was almost a blessing. My shoulders sagged with relief, only for my chest to tighten again as the real silence pressed in—the kind that wasn't remotely soothing.
I scoffed out loud, maybe to convince myself I wasn't drowning in it. Usually, I'd have sworn under my breath, cursing their reckless exhibition, but I suddenly found myself wishing I was back in that surreal world. At least there, the chaos had direction. Here, the storm was internal, and I was trapped inside it with no compass.
The weight of three pairs of eyes bore into me.
My mates sat by my sides, their postures deceptively relaxed, but the tension rolling off them told a very different story. I didn't need Maria's heightened senses to feel it—it hummed in the air, thick and charged, every unspoken thought dangling between us.
Nobody moved. Nobody dared to breathe too loudly.
