FIA
I could feel Cian's questions building through the bond. They sat heavy in the space between us, unspoken but present. He had pieced some of it together from what Dimitri said, from the way I reacted, from the venom in my voice when I threw the word rapist at him. But knowing fragments of something and hearing the full picture were different things entirely.
He wanted to ask.
I felt his restraint just as clearly as I felt his curiosity. He held back because he sensed how raw I still was, how close to breaking apart I had come standing in front of Dimitri. The bond pulsed with his careful concern, his desire to know warring with his need to protect me from reliving whatever had carved that much pain into my voice.
When we stepped inside, the warmth of the house hit me first. Then reality crashed back in.
"Your mother…"
