POV: Daniel

Clara Reynolds was up in the apartment, pacing back and forth in narrow lines he could trace with his eyes closed. He could feel her twist at the end of the counter, the slap of her palm against the sink, the way she folded her arms over her belly and told herself she was fine. The bond made a liar out of distance. Every denial she breathed found its way into him and came out as hunger.

The bear beneath his ribs shifted, claws testing the surface of his ribs. Go up ...