VANESSA
The forest path back to the packhouse stretched before us, bathed in dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. My mind was still reeling from the Priestess's revelation. Soul-bound. Not just fated mates, but something deeper, more permanent. Something even magic couldn't break.
"You're quiet," Roman said, his voice cutting through my thoughts.
I glanced at him, taking in his strong profile against the forest backdrop. "Just... processing."
He nodded, understanding without pushing. This was new for him—this patience, this willingness to give me space. The old Roman would have demanded answers, explanations, reassurances. The man beside me now simply walked in companionable silence, letting me find my way.
"The Priestess said the ritual required personal items from both of us," I said finally. "Something to connect to our essence."
Roman's pace slowed. "Which means whoever did this has access to our belongings."