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“You think I wanted this?” The words tore out of me, raw and ragged. “You think I chose to be whatever the hell I am? To spend every day wondering if I'm turning into something...” I cut myself off, but it was too late.

Sean went very still, the kind of stillness that meant he was seeing too much. “Into something what, Cade?”

All the fight drained out of me suddenly, leaving only bone-deep exhaustion. I sank onto my couch, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes until I saw spots. “I don't even know what I am anymore.”

“You're Cade Cross.” Sean's voice had softened, but there was steel underneath.

I let out a hollow laugh that felt like it might shatter. “Am I?” My hands trembled as I lowered them, and I hated that he could see it. “I've spent my whole life researching, analyzing, trying to understand monsters, and now...” The mark burned steadily, a constant reminder of what I'd become. “I think I might be one.”

The silence that followed felt heavy enough to crush. I couldn't look at Sean, couldn't bear to see judgment or worse,pity, in his eyes. The city lights painted shadows across my floor, and I wondered how many of them were really just shadows anymore.

“You stupid bastard.”

I looked up, startled by the raw emotion in Sean's voice. He crossed the space between us in two quick strides, hands coming up to cup my face. The touch was gentle, so at odds with the hunter I knew him to be.

“You're not a monster,” he said fiercely. “You're the most stubbornly human person I've ever met. You still care, still try to save everyone, even when it's probably going to get you killed. Hell, you even try to save the monsters when you can.”

“Sean...”

“No, shut up and listen.” His thumbs brushed my cheekbones, the tenderness of the gesture making my chest ache. “I've seen monsters, Cade. Real ones. The kind that enjoy causing pain, that feed on suffering. You? You throw yourself between innocent people and danger without hesitation. You lose sleep over victims you couldn't save. You keep fighting even when it would be easier to give up. That's not monstrous. That's as human as it gets.”

“That doesn't change what I am,” I whispered, but my hands had come up to grip his wrists, holding on like he was the only solid thing left in my world.

“No,” he agreed. “But it defines who you are. The mark, the power, whatever chose you that night, they're just tools. What matters is how you use them.”

I looked up at him, really looked, and saw something in his eyes I hadn't expected. Not judgment or fear, but understanding. Maybe even something deeper.

“I'm terrified,” I admitted, the words barely audible. “Of what I might become, of what I might already be. All my research points to something I don't want to face.”

“Good.” His smile was soft, genuine in a way I rarely saw. “Means you're still human enough to feel fear. Still human enough to...”

I rose from my seat, closing the distance between us in a single motion. I kissed him. Or maybe he kissed me. The distinction didn't matter as much as the way he responded, one hand sliding into my hair while the other dropped to my waist, pulling me closer. The kiss was gentle at first, almost hesitant, like we were both afraid of breaking something fragile.

I clung to him like a drowning man finding shore, and he held me just as tightly. His mouth was hot against mine, tasting of whiskey and promises neither of us had dared to voice.

When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, he rested his forehead against mine. “You're not alone in this,” he murmured. “Whatever's coming, you don't have to face it alone anymore. You don't have to research every answer yourself. Some things you just gotta feel.”

The mark hummed contentedly, as if agreeing. For the first time since that snowy night when my world ended, I felt something like hope.

“I don't know how to do this,” I admitted. “Any of it. I can't find a precedent for what's happening.”

“Good thing you've got me then.” His smile turned wicked. “I'm excellent at making things up as I go. Research can only take you so far.”

I laughed, the sound surprised me, and the tightness in my chest began to unwind. Sean was right—I wasn't alone anymore.

Whatever I was becoming, whatever future the mark was leading me toward, I had someone in my corner now.

Someone who saw the darkness in me and wasn't afraid.

The city continued its endless rhythm outside my windows, full of shadows and secrets and creatures that lurked beyond the veil of ordinary perception. But here, in this moment, withSean's hands steady on my skin and his heartbeat strong against my palm, none of that seemed to matter quite as much.

We had monsters to hunt, gates to close, and a Prince of Hell to stop. But for now, this was enough—this understanding, this connection, this moment of peace in the eye of the storm.

I pulled back slightly, breathless, my chest rising and falling against Sean's. The mark hummed beneath my skin, more active than I'd ever felt it, like it recognized something in him that called to it.

“Let me see it,” Sean whispered, his Irish lilt softer than usual, intimate in a way that made my heart skip. “The mark. Show me.”

I hesitated, old instincts warring with new trust. No one had seen it since the doctors in the emergency room that night, not even Sterling knew exactly what it looked like. But Sean's eyes held nothing but understanding, and maybe something deeper that neither of us was ready to name.