The absence registered before the thought did.
The space beside him was cold and felt wrong.
Cael Alexander's eyes opened immediately.
The sudden shift woke him without transition.
He turned-- hand already moving across the sheets, searching, confirming what his body had already understood.
Beside him, the bed was empty.
The air felt different, shifted.
His gaze snapped to the bedroom door. Slightly ajar of about a width of a hair.
Then, he heard the faint hum. Low and distant.
The private elevator.
His body moved before logic caught up, no logic, no recalibration.
He was already off the bed, already crossing the room-- barefoot and unprepared.
The towel from the nightstand was the only thing within reach-- he grabbed it without looking, dragging it low across his hips as he moved.
Not dressed.
Not composed.
Not waiting.
He reached the penthouse main door in seconds after busting through the bedroom door.
Hand already on the handle-- turned.
Nothing. It didn't move.
