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Whatever was brewing beneath his controlled exterior, I had a feeling we wouldn't be able to avoid it much longer.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Aether stoodat the window like a statue, staring into the darkness beyond. I found a small door tucked into the corner of our room and peeked inside—a washroom, if you could call it that. Someone had turned an old barrel into a makeshift tub, and beside it sat a bucket of water, still warm from the hearth. Perfect.

Given how distant Aether had been since leaving the Compound, a moment alone seemed wise.

The warm water was a blessing after everything we'd done today. I washed quickly, then wrapped myself in one of the worn towels left on a hook. My leathers lay in a heap on the floor, and the thought of putting them back on made me cringe. My clean clothes were in my satchel—which I'd left by the window. By Aether.

When I stepped back into the bedroom, he hadn't moved an inch. He glanced over his shoulder at my footsteps, then turned away just as quickly. But not before I noticed the dark stubble shadowing his jaw, a sight that had me biting back a smile. If he was lovely before, this was maddening.

"Are we ever going to discuss what's bothering you?" I asked.

Aether turned, leaning against the wall but still avoiding my eyes. He shook his head as his gaze found the floor. "I don't want to be cruel to you," he said, dragging a hand over his mouth. "I'm just trying to process this."

I moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "Talk to me."

"I haven't done this before. Felt things like this." His voice was rough. "Not that I can remember, at least." He looked almost pained, like each word was being torn from him.

"I know I can't blame you for anything that happened before," he added quickly. “I'm just trying to rationalize why it affects me this way."

I watched him struggle, could practically see the thoughts racing behind those golden eyes. "Aether..." I trailed off, searching for the right words. "Laryk and I—it's not what you're thinking. I had been alone for so long, and he showed me I could be something other than what I was. I never thought I could attach myself to someone so quickly, someone that I was never even sure liked me for me, or liked me for what he thought I could do."

Aether stayed quiet for a long moment. "You thought you loved him," he finally said. "It seems deeper than that, and it's difficult to imagine competing with that history."

"Historymakes it seem like something far more than it was." I nearly laughed at the truth of it. We’d spent so little time together—a whirlwind built on my insecurities.

"But it was real, for you," he continued, his voice tight. "I’m trying Fia, I just don't know how to be what you need. I'm fumbling my way through this."

I shook my head. "I didn't know him, Aether. Not like I know you."

Our eyes finally met, and for the first time, I saw real vulnerability in his, the golden irises melting in the firelight. But just like that, he broke away, moving to sink into the chair by the hearth. He buried his face in his hands.

"I don't want to mess this up," he said simply.

I shifted on the bed to face him, my heart aching at how lost he looked.

"We don't need all the answers right now," I said softly. "We're working through this together."

He peered up at me. "For so long, I closed off every part of myself that could feel." His voice took on a strained edge. "I feel like I'm drowning. Sometimes it's incredible, like this morning on the cliff." He paused, exhaling slowly. "Other times, it feels like I'm going to burst out of my own skin. And in the middle of all that, is you."

I couldn't stand seeing him like this. Before I could stop myself, I was standing in front of him, taking his hands in mine, feeling the callouses that plagued them. The same hands that had shuffled through countless pages to figure out exactly who I was—the same hands that had carried me out of Draxon.Hishands. Aether's hands. They were warm, almost burning.

"Do you know what it means to me?" I asked softly. "That you think about these things?"

My fingers found their way into his hair, and he leaned into my touch, those golden eyes finally meeting mine. Something had cracked open in him—no pretenses, no evasion, just pure honesty reflected in his irises.

"Sometimes I just need..." He struggled with the words. "Time. To process everything. The last thing I want is to say something in anger, something I can't take back."

His forehead pressed against my towel-covered stomach as my hands worked through his hair. The simple touch felt more intimate than anything we'd shared before.

"I've never met anyone like you," I said, meaning it more than I could express.

He turned his face against me, breathing me in. His hands found my bare legs, fingers pressing into my thighs as he drew mecloser. "I want to know every part of you," he murmured into the fabric. "To breathe in every. single. piece."

Heat pooled in my stomach at his words. I wanted that too, with a ferocity that terrified me as much as it thrilled me, made me feel free and alive. This man. I wanted him to know me completely. No walls.

"I'm done hiding," I whispered, my voice low against the cracking of the fire. His head tilted back, creating a devastating distance between us.