The terrace was quiet again. The lights from the city stretched far below them, scattered like a sea of molten glass. Chris sat wrapped in a blanket, tucked into the curve of Dax's arm, his body still trembling from the flare. The frosty scent had faded, replaced by the alpha's maddeningly familiar warmth.
They stayed like that for a long time. The hum of the palace ventilation filled the silence, blending with the faint pulse of Chris's medical patch and the quiet rhythm of their breathing. When Dax finally spoke, his voice was low enough that it almost slipped past the night air.
"The collar wasn't meant to cage you."
Chris shifted, the blanket rustling softly. "You said that before."
"I didn't explain it before." Dax's tone was careful, too careful, like a man approaching a wound he'd made himself. "And I should have, especially after what she told you."
"Hanna?" Chris asked, eyes still fixed on the skyline.
"Yes."
