All this time, Miles has been waiting, biding his time, building up to hurt Kurt one last devastating, resonant time. He listens to their even breathing, the steady beat of their heart, lulled by exhaustion into letting down their guard. Miles has been good, has been careful and respectful and cautious. Even if Kurt's body remembers his cruelty, their mind is so desperate to believe that this is real. That it can stay. They long to rest in their Alpha's protection -- it's instinct. It's what they're meant for.

So when Miles creeps up, silent and stoic and not even breathing, then bends to gently scoop up Kurt's daughter, moving so slowly that the baby barely fusses. She's tired too, weary from the busy work of growing and eating and learning the world around her. The entire world is her mother, their warmth, their comfort, their voice.

But for that instant, enough for Miles to scoop her up, the baby doesn't stir. Until she registers the change in the air, the wrong scent and feel and presence. The wolf link in her mind is connected to Kurt and Kurt alone, and this -- the first time it's been tested by distance -- has the pup waking and squirming, letting out a soft, wavering whimper.