Xavier closed the door behind him, his boots heavy with dirt and blood. The silence of Seraphina's house was unsettling—too calm, too still, like the quiet before a storm. The scent of dried lavender and old wood lingered in the air, but it was the sharp click of footsteps that pulled him from his thoughts.
Seraphina emerged from the hallway, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes glittering with restrained fury.
"Where were you?" she demanded, her voice cool but laced with hurt.
Xavier didn't flinch. He met her gaze with quiet resolve. "The pack was under attack. Nightcrawlers crossed the border. I had to go."
"And you didn't think I deserved to know that?" Her voice rose, the calm cracking. "You disappear without a word. I wake up to an empty house and silence."
"I didn't have time for goodbyes." His tone was clipped, wearied. "People could've died."
