Zoe POV

Noah's eyes close slowly, and my world narrows down to the sound of his breathing.

It's there. Shallow, but there—rising and falling in a rhythm that is quieter than it should be but steady, consistent, real. I press my hand against his chest just to feel it, just to have the proof of it under my palm, and I hold it there until I stop shaking enough to think.

The sedative isn't lethal. I know that. It's designed to suppress wolf function, not to kill. Noah is ...