Page 65 of Shadows Rising

Beyond our alcove, war is gathering. But here, with Kaia warm and trusting in my arms, none of that matters.

Here, I am whole. I am hers.

For the first time since the berserker awakened, I feel peace. But that's a lie—I'm terrified of how much I need her. Of what I'd become if I ever lost her.

But tonight, that fear is distant. Secondary to the peace flowing through me, through us. Through a bond that finally feels like home.

Chapter 32

Finn

The war room is silent.

Not the comfortable kind of silence. Not the ‘we’ve made a great battle plan and are now basking in our brilliance’ kind of silence. No, this is the kind of silence that stretches too long, too loaded, too…deeply, deeply uncomfortable.

I shift where I stand, dragging a hand down my face. Yep. Still hard. Stillvery muchfeelingeverythingKaia and Aspen just did. The bond has no chill. No shame. No mercy.

And I know,I knowthe rest of them feel it too.

Kieran is at the head of the table, bracing himself against the wood like it’s the only thing keeping him standing. His jaw is so tight I swear he’s seconds away from breaking his own teeth. Malrik, for all his usual composure, looksmildlyless smug than usual. Torric is standing stiff as a board, arms crossed over his chest like if he just folds himself tightly enough, he can pretend this didn’t happen.

But itdid.

And the bond made damn sure we got every single detail.

I can still taste her on my tongue—salt and sweetness that isn’t mine to claim. The phantom press of skin against skin. The echo of pleasure that wasn’t mine rippling through me like I swallowed lightning.

My body can’t tell the difference. My heart—

Nope. Not going there.

Fucking hell.

I glance around for an escape route, but nope—no exits, no mercy, and to make things worse, Walter is just floating nearby like the smug little shadow menace he is.

I swear to the gods, he’ssmirkingat me. Or whatever passes for a smirk when you’re a cosmic intern made of shadow stuff and existential dread.

My eyes flick back to Kieran. He looks like he’s two seconds away from snapping a chair in half with his bare hands.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore. The silence, the tension, thehard situation(pun absolutely intended). I clear my throat, shifting uncomfortably as I adjust my stance.

“Well,” I say, my voice a little hoarse, “this is awkward.”

No one responds.

Malrik inhales sharply through his nose, then turns on his heel andwalks out.

Torric follows, his movements tight, like hehateseverything about this moment.

Honestly, same.

Kieran doesn’t move. Doesn’t react.

Walter bobs beside him, vibrating like he’sthrivingin the discomfort. Little bastard.

“Should we, uh, talk about the weather instead? Sunny with a chance of magical sex echoes?” I try again.

Nothing. Not even a glare.