The worst part of loving someone who belonged to another man wasn't the jealousy. That he understood. It was the sound of her crying alone behind a locked door running water because she didn't want anyone to hear.
She had thought to turn it on, which meant she had done this before, which meant this was a system she had built for grief, and that was the thing he was never going to recover from.
His wolf said break the door. He split the difference and knocked.
"Guinevere? It's Nicholas."
The water ran. No answer. The crying went silent, but Nicholas could still feel it through their matebond. Her breathing was stuck in a loop her body couldn't break.
His hand found the handle. Locked. The wolf was howling but the decision to break it down belonged to the man, and the man would choose her every time.
One hit. Shoulder first. The door folded inward and the lock exploded out of the frame.
