Page 48

Finn

The fire's down to embers when I finally work up the nerve to approach her.

Kaia sits on the rocky outcrop like a statue carved from guilt and determination, her gaze fixed on the darkness where our enemies might emerge. She hasn't moved in over an hour. Hasn't blinked, as far as I can tell.

I toss a wrapped ration at her feet, the sound sharp in the silence.

"Fuel for the guilt machine," I say, settling onto a boulder a few feet away. Close enough to talk, far enough that she can't pretend this is just another one of our easy conversations.

She glances down at the food but doesn't reach for it. "Thanks, but I'm not—"

"Hungry. Yeah, I figured." I study her profile in the dim light, noting the sharp angles that weren't there a week ago. "When's the last time you actually ate something?"

"I'm fine, Finn."

"Sure you are." I lean back, chaos magic sparking absently around my fingers. "You got a minute, Trouble? "

The nickname hangs between us, weighted with everything we used to be. She finally turns to look at me, and something in my expression must tip her off because her guarded expression shifts to concern.

"What's wrong?"

I almost laugh. Of course she notices something's off now, when I'm about to tear my chest open and show her exactly how wrong everything's been.

"You ever feel like you're losing someone who's sitting right in front of you?"

Her face softens with understanding I don't want. "Finn, I know you're worried about Seren too, but—"

"I'm not talking about Seren."

The words stop her cold. I watch confusion flicker across her features, followed by the dawning realization that this conversation isn't going where she expected.

I stand, pacing to the edge of our small camp because sitting still feels impossible. My magic responds to the agitation, painting the air around me in restless streaks of color that die as quickly as they form.

"I'm talking about you," I say, not looking at her. "And me. And the way you stopped seeing me weeks ago."

"That's not—"

"It is." I turn back to face her, and the protest dies on her lips. "You still smile at me. Still throw barbs back and forth like we're playing some game. Still feel what little bond we have hum in your chest. But I don't think you've looked at me—really looked—in weeks."

She opens her mouth to argue, but I keep going because if I stop now, I'll lose my nerve entirely .

"I watch you carry this weight like you've lost everything that matters. Like this realm, these bonds—everything—have carved pieces out of you you'll never get back. But the biggest gap? That's me. And I'm still right fucking here."

The silence that follows is deafening. Kaia stares at me like I've grown a second head, and maybe I have. Maybe this version of me, the one that's tired of pretending everything's fine, is someone she's never met before.

"I don't understand," she says finally, her voice smaller than I'm used to hearing.

"I know you don't. That's the problem." I run a hand through my hair, frustrated by my own inability to explain this properly. "You want to know why I've been pulling away? Why I've been giving you space instead of fighting for it?"

She nods, shadows coiling anxiously around her feet.

"Because I thought it would be easier. Letting you go. Stepping back so the others could take up the space you needed." The admission tastes like ash. "I thought if I gave you room to breathe, maybe you'd choose me. Maybe you'd realize what you were missing and reach back."

"Finn—"

"But I think I waited too long. Or maybe you stopped reaching before I let go. I don't even know anymore." The chaos magic around me flares brighter, responding to the raw edge in my voice. "All I know is I miss you. And I'm right here."

The words hang between us like a challenge. Like a plea.

Kaia's face crumples slightly, and she reaches for my hand. "Finn, I never meant— "

I step back before she can touch me. Not cruel, not angry, just done. Done pretending that casual contact will fix what's broken between us. Done settling for scraps when I used to be a full meal.

"You don't need to say anything," I tell her, gentler now. "Just... see me, Kaia. Just once. Before whatever's waiting at the end of this kills one of us."

Her shadows writhe like they want to reach for me but don't know how. Carl flickers toward and starts to fade before Bob snaps him back into formation. Even her magic doesn't know what to do with the space I'm creating.

I turn to go, but something makes me pause. Look back one more time at the girl who used to light up when I walked into a room.

"For what it's worth, Trouble," I say, my voice carrying across the distance I've put between us, "I'd still burn the world for you. But I don't know if I belong in it anymore."

Then I walk away, leaving her sitting alone with her guilt and her shadows and the ration she won't eat.

The fire dies to nothing behind me, and for the first time in months, I don't try to rekindle it.