45. (JO POV)

(JO POV)

The pressure in the room, and thus my anxiety, escalated rapidly as Dane vented his frustrations. "Well... How close you two are makes total fuckin' sense now," he yelled, his movements a blur of speed and agitation. His voice had shifted into that thick New York accent.

Attempting to help, I stood to hug him, only for him to brush past me and say, "Not right now." His dismissal felt like a physical blow, sending my emotions into a freefall.

Deirk intervened. "Dane... I think you need to feed more. Going a month without has taken its toll, and one feed isn't enough to stabilize you."

Dane halted, turning to face Deirk with a steely gaze. "I'm trying to take it slow, considering she's likely to try to feed us both now. And we all know how that might end." His frustration culminated in a sudden blurred punch to the wall.

The intensity of Dane's anger, his physical expressions of it, transported me back to darker times under my stepfather's roof. I began to shake uncontrollably,