POV: Aphrodite
Silence was never going to survive this.
Lucen returns at dawn, appearing at the edge of camp like a ghost. He's still in wolf form, fur matted with dirt and pine needles from running all night. When he shifts back, the exhaustion is evident in every line of his body.
But his eyes, when they find mine, are clear. Hurt, yes. But clear.
We've driven the patrol back temporarily. The Nightfang wolves retreated after testing our defenses, satisfied they'd accomplished their goal of sowing chaos. Now we're left to deal with the aftermath.
The tension that's been building since yesterday explodes the moment Lucen speaks.
"We need to talk." His voice is rough from disuse, but steady.
Draco tenses immediately, moving slightly closer to me. The bond between us is still humming from yesterday's kiss, acknowledged and alive. Lucen feels it too, I know he does. The way his jaw tightens tells me everything.
"Yes," I agree quietly. "We do."
