The medical tent stood at the eastern edge of the training grounds, a stark white canvas structure that billowed slightly in the morning breeze. It had been hastily erected three days ago when the joint training exercises began, and already it smelled of antiseptic, wolfsbane salve, and the metallic tang of healing blood.

I didn't follow Luke inside. That would have been too obvious, too revealing. Instead, I circled the perimeter of the tent, positioning myself where I could see through a narrow gap where the canvas ties had come loose. From this angle, I could watch Ryder work without appearing to be hovering like some lovesick omega.

'You're hovering,'...