Opal's POV
The afternoon sun warmed the back terrace of the pack house, casting a golden glow over the training grounds below. Opal leaned on the railing, arms crossed, her eyes fixed on the sparring warriors. Sweat glistened on their backs as they lunged and parried, feet shifting in the dirt with well-practiced precision.
Kael stood behind her, silent. Not angry—at least not anymore—but something heavier lingered between them.
She felt it in the way he hadn't touched her since they returned from Alpha Marcus's territory. Not even a brush of fingers or a casual hand on the small of her back. That meant he was trying not to explode.
He hadn't said it outright. Not yet. But she could feel it in the way his jaw tightened every time he looked at her. In the way he kept standing just far enough away to keep his hands in his pockets.
Finally, she turned to face him.
"You've been quiet," she said.