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They sat on the edge of the stone ledge, the sun sliding lower, the sky streaked with rose and bronze. Below them, the sprawl of the city glimmered, a patchwork of lights and shadow.

Hagan held her hand gently between his, but now his eyes were fixed on the skyline. His voice came low, gravel-rough. He looked like she'd carved him open.

"There are nights I still wake up—sweating, choking—seeing you on that ground," he said with torment in his voice . "Bleeding out. Paler by the second. Your head had fallen forward. I couldn't reach you. Couldn't touch you. I'd never felt so helpless in my life."

Seren looked at him, but he didn't turn.

"I thought I'd lost every chance," he whispered. "That whatever shot I had at making things right was gone. Until your arm fell outside the circle. And I dragged you out like a madman."

His throat bobbed. "You were ice. And I thought I'd killed you."

Seren's heart twisted.

He turned to her then, finally, blue eyes raw.

"I kept away because I finally understood something." His voice trembled, not with weakness, but with restraint. "While I was free to be wild and stupid and spoiled,you—you were shackled. First, by the weight of your tribe. Then by mine. And then by me."

A breeze lifted strands of her hair. She said nothing, afraid that if she spoke, she'd crumble.

"You never got the childhood you deserved. Or the mate you were meant to have—the kind who should've worshipped the ground you walked on." He gave a bitter smile. "Instead, you got me. A fated fool who couldn't even figure out who he was, let alone how to deserve you."

She tried to pull her hand away then, but he held on—gently, reverently.

"I've been here for two months," he said. "Trying. Learning. Failing. Watching."

He swallowed hard.

"I know I'm sometimes heavy-handed. Gods, I feel like I'm made of fists and growls half the time. It drives me mad to see other men look at you. The wild in me doesn't understand restraint when it comes to you."

She inhaled, slow and sharp.

"But I'm trying, Seren. I swear it. I can live with Threk being close to you because I know what he is to you. I know he'd die before he hurt you. But part of me still howls when I think of it. How the most precious thing in my life is being protected by someone else."

He looked down at their joined hands. Then up again, his expression open, raw, nothing held back.

"I know a better man would let you go. He'd want your peace more than his own happiness." His thumb brushed over her knuckles. "But I'm not that man."

He leaned in, voice barely more than breath.

"I'm going to keep showing up. Keep pushing your boundaries. Even your hatred is better than your indifference. I will keep trying to earnevery inch of space beside you—until the day you choose someone else."

A beat of silence.

"And if that happens... I'll break. Quietly. Far away from you. But until then, I'm here. All in. Mine, if you'll still have me."

Chapter 68

The walk down the ancient cathedral steps was quiet-stone underfoot, the spiral narrow and echoing. Hagan's hand brushed hers occasionally, his thumb grazing her knuckles as if afraid she'd vanish if he let go. But she didn't pull away.

Not yet.

They stepped out into the cool dusk, streetlights flickering on in halos of amber. As they neared the bus stop, the silence between them was oddly comfortable, filled with the soft hum of city life.

Then Hagan's phone buzzed sharply as soon as he turned it on.

He pulled it free, thumbed it on, and answered. "Yeah?"

His whole posture changed.