Chapter 22: Mapping the Claim
He disappeared into the bathing chamber. I heard water begin to run.
I walked slowly to the window.
Below, the amphitheater was nearly empty. The blood on the platform was being scrubbed away.
Wolves moved in controlled patterns, speaking quietly, already turning the event into strategy and consequence.
My family was leaving.
My father's shoulders were stiff. My mother kept her gaze forward. Ivy walked slightly behind them.
None of them looked up. I pressed my palm against the cool glass.
Thirty-three burns beneath my skin.
Thirty-three times I had torn myself apart to mend someone else.
And now I was bound to a man who tore others apart to keep me.
The water stopped running.
The bond tugged gently. Not demanding. Just present.
Mine, it whispered.
His.
I didn't move toward the bathing chamber.
Not yet.
But I didn't move toward the door either.
And that, more than anything, unsettled me.
I wasn't running. I was staying.
