In the darkness of my room, something inside me tightened until it felt like an invisible claw had closed around my chest. My instincts, usually calm and controlled, twisted restlessly as if reacting to a distant Alpha presence that refused to fade.
And then it broke.
Warmth gathered in my eyes without warning. I didn't even realize I was crying until the tears fell—silent at first, then unstoppable. They slid down my cheeks and dropped onto my knees, darkening the fabric of my pajamas.
I froze.
My gaze locked on the spreading dampness like it didn't belong to me.
Why…?
I never cared about him. I told myself that. I repeated it like a command to my instincts, like something I could enforce through will alone.
So why was my body reacting like this? Why did it feel like a bond had been tugged too hard inside my chest?
My breathing turned uneven as more memories surged forward without permission.
