He was already waiting on the mat when I walked in.
Not kneeling.
Not posed.
Just sitting cross-legged, spine straight, hands resting on his thighs. Calm. Alert. Eyes on the door the moment I opened it — as if he'd been listening for my footsteps in the hall.
His scent was softer today. Still laced with the now-permanent sweetness of his omega designation, but without the urgency that came during heat. No shame, no desperation. Just quiet comfort, touched with anticipation.
He missed us, Nyx whispered.
I knew.
Because I missed him too.
I sat down across from him, folding my legs to match his posture. He mirrored me without hesitation. That was new. Before, he would wait for cues. Mimic delay. Now, he was quicker. Intuitive.
Present.
"Hi," I said softly.
He blinked. Then: "Hi."
That small voice knocked loose something in my chest every time.
Nyx hummed, tail thumping against the inside of my ribs. He's blooming. Just a little. Just enough to see us.
I smiled. "You look rested."
He tilted his head. "Rested?"
"Like you slept well."
"Oh." He nodded slowly, then hesitated. "Yes. Because you are here now."
That hit harder than I expected.
I cleared my throat and leaned forward slightly.
"There's something I want to talk about today."
His eyes lifted.
Patient. Trusting.
So much trust, and he didn't even know why.
I tried to find the words.
Something simple. Something soft.
"You know how we talked about the connection between us?" I asked. "How you said you felt something here—" I touched my chest— "when we're close?"
He nodded once.
That same quiet, open expression on his face. Curious. Not afraid.
"It's called a bond," I said.
He didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Just blinked.
"Some people have them," I went on. "Most don't. But when they happen... they're deep. They're real. They're forever."
His breath caught, just slightly.
Nyx stirred, her ears flicking. He's listening.
I rested my hands on my knees.
"The bond between us... it means you're mine."
Still no reaction.
But his scent shifted.
That faint honey-thick bloom that happened when he heard something that made him feel safe.
"And I'm yours," I said quietly.
His lashes fluttered.
"And it's not about control. Or ownership. It's not about what they say you were made for."
I leaned forward, just slightly.
"It's about choice. It's about recognition."
He looked down, brows drawn together.
"I... feel," he whispered. "When you are near. I do not know word. But it is... full."
Gods.
My throat burned.
"That's the bond," I said, smiling through the ache. "That's what I feel too."
He looked back up, eyes round.
Then, after a beat, he reached out.
His fingers barely brushed mine.
But it was real.
It was him.
Nyx pressed against my awareness, nearly vibrating. He's choosing us.
"I'm going to tell you more," I promised. "When you're ready. When it's safe."
He nodded.
No questions.
Just quiet agreement.
Just trust.
And for the rest of the session, we didn't need words.
We just stayed close.
Breathing the same air.
Sharing the same space.