The Day He Lost Me
—and come to Healer's Hollow.
Every time, he brought something. Sometimes it was the moonstones from Reynolds Pack. Sometimes it was a snow rabbit pelt he'd hunted himself, saying I'd need something warm for my hands come winter.
He'd linger nearby for hours, hovering at the edge of my sight, until I finally called out to him—"Xavier." And only then would he come closer, his ears burning red.
A month later, we formally became mates.
As for Knox? I never heard from him again.