Azelon didn't wait for him to finish. With Corin still struggling in his arms, he carried him bodily from the healing chamber, flicking the door shut behind them with his tail.
In the hallway, he set Corin down but maintained his grip, keeping the fae from returning to Jamie's side.
"Let me go!" Corin demanded, twisting against him. "I need to be there when he wakes up. I need to explain?—"
"You need to calm yourself first," Azelon countered. "Your emotions are uncontrolled again."
"Of course they are!" Corin shouted, his projection intensifying with his distress. The hallway lights flickered. A mirror on the wall cracked from corner to corner. "I almost killed him! I almost killed both of you!"
Azelon recognized the spiral beginning—guilt feeding fear feeding more guilt, emotions cascading until they manifested physically. He'd seen it before, in the drowning dreamscape where he'd first found Corin.
He needed to break the cycle.
"Enough," Azelon said, his voice sharper than intended.
"Don't tell me it's enough!" Corin's eyes blazed, tears streaming freely now. "You've been right all along. I'm too dangerous. Too unstable. I should never have stayed with you. I should have left before anyone got hurt. I should?—"
Seeing that words would not cut through, Azelon turned once more to action.
Pushing Corin against the wall, he closed the distance between them and pressed his mouth to Corin's, swallowing whatever self-recrimination was coming next.
For one heartbeat, Corin went rigid with shock. Then, with a broken sound caught between a sob and a gasp, he melted into the kiss, hands clutching desperately at Azelon's shoulders.
The emotional projection didn't disappear, but it transformed. The chaotic energy of guilt and self-loathing shifted into something warmer, less destructive. The hallway lights steadied, then brightened. The temperature rose subtly around them.
Azelon hadn't meant for the kiss to deepen, but Corin's response stripped away his restraint. All the months of careful distance collapsed like a dam breaking. His hands moved to frame Corin's face, thumbs brushing away tears as he tasted the salt of them on Corin's lips.
When he finally pulled back, both of them were breathing hard. Corin stared up at him, amber eyes wide with confusion and desperate hope.
"What was that?" he whispered.
Azelon didn't have an answer that wouldn't destroy all his boundaries.
"A distraction," he said finally. "Your projection was getting out of control."
Hurt flashed across Corin's face, but it was quickly masked by a weak laugh. "Right. Of course. Just keeping me from destroying the building."
Azelon stepped back, putting space between them. Already he regretted his impulsiveness. Already he felt the consequences threading through him, weakening the resolve he'd built so carefully.
"Your projection has stabilized," he observed, his voice neutral. "That's what matters."
"Is it?" Corin leaned back against the wall, eyes never leaving Azelon's face. "Is that all that matters to you?"
The question hung between them, weighted with unspoken truths. Azelon looked away first.
"Jamie needs rest," he said. "And you need to regain control of your emotions before you return to the healing chamber."
Corin's expression hardened. "You didn't answer my question."
"Because there is no answer that helps our current situation," Azelon replied.
"You're wrong." Corin pushed off the wall, stepping closer. "There's plenty that would help. Like the truth. Like admitting what I already know—that you care for me. That you've cared all along, even while you were pushing me away."
Azelon retreated a step. "My feelings are irrelevant."
"They're the only relevant thing!" Corin's voice rose again, but his projection remained contained, focused. He gestured between them. "That was not the kiss of someone who feels nothing."
"I never said I felt nothing," Azelon admitted, the words escaping before he could stop them.
