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Aspen

The war room presses in on me from all sides.

Too many voices. Too much tension. Too much everything crackling through the air like lightning waiting to strike.

I slip out, my steps deliberately measured despite the urge to run.

The moment the door closes behind me, I exhale like I’ve been holding my breath for hours.

My skin still hums from Kaia’s wild magic, from the chaos tearing through her that I can’t fix, from bonds that ache with incompleteness and the weight of everything spiraling beyond my control.

From her .

My feet carry me toward the library without conscious thought. It’s quiet there. A place where knowledge sits patient on shelves, where answers exist even if I can’t always find them. Maybe if I sit still long enough, I’ll figure out what the hell is happening to me.

But the moment I cross the threshold, I know I’m not alone.

The bond shifts .

She followed me.

Of course she did .

I don’t turn around immediately, even though I can feel her presence settling just inside the doorway like warmth against my back. I close my eyes, dragging my composure back into place before facing whatever this conversation is going to cost me.

“You bolted pretty fast back there.” Her voice is careful, testing.

I exhale through my nose. “Needed space to think.”

Silence stretches between us. Then, quieter: “Want me to leave?”

Yes.

No.

Gods, I don’t know.

“Do whatever you want, Kaia.” The words come out rougher than I intend.

I hear her move closer, boots soft against stone. “You’ve been pulling away from me.”

I force something that might pass for a laugh. “Not pulling away. Just…” I drag a hand down my face. “Trying to figure things out.”

“What things?”

I finally turn to meet her gaze, and the openness there nearly undoes me. She’s looking at me like I’m still worth something, like I’m still the man she trusted before everything changed.

Like she can’t see the monster I’m becoming.

I lean against the nearest bookshelf, arms crossed defensively. “I don’t know if I can control it anymore.”

Understanding flickers in her violet eyes. “The berserker.”

One sharp nod. “What happened when we stepped into Absentia, that wasn’t me , Kaia. It was something else wearing my face. And I don’t know if I can stop it from happening again. ”

She studies me with that unnerving focus of hers, shadows drifting around her ankles like curious cats. Something unreadable passes through her expression before she steps closer, eliminating the careful distance I’ve been maintaining.

I should back away.

I don’t.

Instead, I go perfectly still as she reaches up, pressing her palm flat against my chest, right over my hammering heart. The touch is gentle but deliberate, warmth seeping through fabric to settle in my bones.

“You’re still you,” she says simply.

I swallow hard. “You can’t know that.”

Her fingers curl into my shirt, grip firm. “I do.”

The certainty in her voice makes my breath catch. She means it—I can feel it through the bond, solid and unwavering. But she doesn’t understand what I saw in that moment when the berserker took over. What I felt when control slipped away like water through my fingers.

“I could have hurt you.” The admission scrapes my throat raw. “Could have killed you.”

She doesn’t even blink. “But you didn’t.”

“That’s not the point.” I shake my head, frustration bleeding through. “It wasn’t me that held back. It was you. Your presence, your magic, something about you kept me tethered. But what happens when that’s not enough?”

Her expression softens, and somehow that’s worse than fear would be. Because she’s not afraid of me. Not the way she should be. Not the way I’m afraid of myself .

She presses her palm more firmly against my chest. “Then let me be your anchor again.”

I blink. “What?”

“If I could pull you back once, I can do it again.” Her voice carries absolute conviction. “Let me be that for you.”

My hands clench at my sides. “I don’t want to need you for that.”

A breath that’s almost laughter escapes her. “Too bad.”

I search her face for doubt, for the self-preservation that should make her run from someone like me. Find nothing but stubborn determination and something that looks dangerously like trust.

Just Kaia, offering me what I can’t ask for.

Hope.

Choice.

Her.

Her voice wavers for the first time. “I need you too, Aspen.”

Everything in me goes still.

She doesn’t look away, even as vulnerability cracks her careful composure. “I need you, and that terrifies me.” Her grip on my shirt tightens. “Because I don’t know how to do this—how to trust these bonds, how to let people in. But I know I choose you. And if I have to fight for you, I will.”

Something breaks open in my chest. “You shouldn’t have to fight for me.”

Her expression turns fierce. “That’s not your decision to make.”

The air between us changes, charged with something electric. I’m suddenly aware of everything—her scent, dark and sweet and uniquely hers, the way her fingers feel curled in my shirt, the space that’s somehow both too much and not nearly enough.

Behind her, I catch the soft ripple of shadows retreating, giving us privacy. Even her magic understands this moment is ours alone.

For once, I stop thinking. Stop fearing. And I let myself want her

Then she tugs me forward.

And I’m lost.

Her mouth meets mine desperate and demanding, and whatever control I’ve been clinging to shatters .

My hands find her waist, pulling her against me as I walk her backward until she hits the bookshelf.

She gasps but doesn’t retreat. Instead she presses closer, body melting into mine like she’s been waiting for this as long as I have.

A sound rumbles from my chest, half growl, half surrender. Her nails scrape against my neck, and fire races down my spine. I deepen the kiss, one hand tangling in her hair, the other gripping her hip like she might disappear if I let go.

The bond flares between us, not the forced connection from the Hall but something chosen, something earned . The berserker inside me stirs, not with rage but with something infinitely more dangerous.

Want.

Need.

Mine.

I break away just enough to rest my forehead against hers, both of us breathing hard. My hands shake where they hold her, the intensity of what I’m feeling almost too much to contain.

“Still think you’re a monster?” she whispers, breath warm against my lips .

My grip tightens involuntarily. “Not when I’m with you.”

Her eyes flash with something wild and wonderful. Then she’s pulling me back down, sealing whatever I might have said with another kiss.

One I’d tear apart worlds to protect.