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His eyes flick toward me and then away before the attention becomes too much. “Okay.”

There is no praise and no reminder that I tried to walk into the fence less than twelve hours ago. He doesn’t turn my answer into proof that I am improving. He comes close enough to touch and stops outside the den.

“I’ll be back.”

I answer with one low sound, and he takes it for what it is before leaving.

After the front door closes, I pull the blue rug over my shoulders and settle deeper into the closet. Everything is where I left it. The heavier blankets form a wall around the middle, Arlo’s shirts are tucked along the side where the plaster gets cold, and the desk outside is still angled so nobody can stand in the hall and look straight at me. The order is familiar enough to let me drift.

I don’t know how long I sleep before the smell wakes me.

Latex and disinfectant cut through leather and fabric with the cold chemical bite of white rooms and metal restraints. My eyes open, and by the time I understand what I’m smelling, my body is already moving.

The dresser has been shoved away from the wall. The blue rug is bunched under one leg of the desk, and a guard stands in the bedroom doorway with one hand near his weapon while the Doctor crouches in the middle of my den like he belongs there.

For a heartbeat, I can only stare as he lifts one of Arlo’s shirts out of the nest with a gloved hand.

“What are you doing?” My voice barely works.

The Doctor looks over his shoulder with the mild irritation of someone interrupted during paperwork. “Ah. You’re awake.”

“Get out.”

The guard shifts, but the Doctor turns back to the nest instead of leaving. “I was beginning to think the suppression after-effects were lingering longer than anticipated.” He slides the shirt into a clear specimen bag. “This behavioral regression is fascinating. I need a catalog of the materials used to trigger the grounding response.”

My hands begin to shake. “Get out of my room.”

“Technically, this is compound property, specimen 4-B.”

He reaches deeper and closes his fingers around the black hoodie I had against my face this morning. The one Arlo wore yesterday. The one I put there because I chose it.

The Doctor lifts it and turns it over beneath the light. “Standard issue. Interesting that the Alpha’s scent markers appear to be more effective than neutral fabrics. We’ll need to determine whether that’s bond-specific or designation-specific.”

The shift tears through me with the next breath. I know where I am, know who he is, and know exactly what he has in his hands, but none of that slows the bear coming through. The room drops around me as the ceiling comes closer and fabric splits somewhere near my shoulder. The Doctor finally understands enough to stumble backward, his clipboard hitting the floor while the guard yanks his weapon free.

I slam one paw into the boards hard enough to make them groan and shove myself between the Doctor and the center of the den.

“Orion.” The guard’s voice goes thin. “Stand down.”

The Doctor backs into the dresser. “Control the animal.”

I bare my teeth and move toward him.

Arlo’s alarm hits the bond from outside the house so hard that I falter. He is already coming, the quiet thread from the market replaced by a full-body surge of smoke, command, and panic racing toward me fast enough that I can almost feel his feet striking the path.

The guard shouts. The Doctor drops the hoodie. I lunge anyway.

“Orion, no!”

Arlo’s scent reaches me a fraction before his body slams into my side. I’m too heavy for him to move, but the impact twists me enough that my claws come down at the wrong angle, tearing through fabric first and then flesh.

Arlo hits the dresser with a sound that empties the room of everything else. He slides to the floor with one hand already clamped over his chest, blood pushing hot and bright between his fingers.

My claws are wet with it.

The Doctor is talking and the guard is talking, but I don’t hear either of them until the Doctor’s voice cuts through the roaring in my head.

“Look at that. Uncontrollable aggression even against the bonded Alpha.” His hand shakes as he reaches for the pen he dropped. “That animal needs to be put down before it kills a Council representative.”