I heard him before I saw him.

That slow, heavy breathing he got after running… and after fighting. The air around me seemed thicker, warmer, like it always did when Silas was close. My palms were damp. My heartbeat stumbled, already knowing who was about to walk in.

The door hit the wall hard.

He stood there, filling the frame. Shirt half unbuttoned, stuck to his skin with sweat. Dust smeared across him. Blood too—though I didn’t know if it was his. His eyes found mine and didn’t let ...