When the door opened she flinched violently—a full-body movement, automatic and total, years of conditioning compressed into a single reflex that operated faster than thought. Then she saw who had entered, and the fear that followed was of a different kind entirely. Raw. Primal. She pressed herself farther into the corner.
"No..." The whisper escaped before she could stop it. "No..."
Thessian closed the door behind him. He came alone— no guards, no Marcus, no wolves stationed at his shoulder. The woman stared at him from the corner, confusion flickering briefly through the fear, because predators in her experience did not come alone. They came in numbers, with purpose already decided, with the particular efficiency of people who had already determined what the visit was for.
He remained near the door. He did not move toward her. He gave her the distance and the time, standing still in the way of someone willing to wait without requiring anything from the waiting.
