Kieran’s jaw tightens. But he doesn’t argue.
We settle.
Torric and Aspen take one side of the fire, gravitating toward each other the way they always do. Finn sprawls nearby, chaos magic crackling faintly as he finally lets himself relax. Malrik positions himself where he can see everyone — always watching, always steady.
Kieran takes the spot nearest the entrance. Even now, he can’t stop guarding.
And Darian…
Darian hovers.
I can feel him through the bond — that strange thread that’s been humming wrong since the moment he kneeled in beside my bedroll the night he found us. Found me. He wants to be close. He’s terrified to be close. He’s caught between the pull and the guilt, and I can feel every inch of his hesitation.
My shadows make the choice for him.
Bob shifts, creating a gap beside me. Not an invitation — more like a command.
Darian freezes. Stares at the space. Stares at me.
“Just lie down,” I mutter, too tired to navigate whatever emotional minefield is happening inside his head. “You’re letting the heat out.”
He lies down.
Stiff as a board. Arms at his sides. Barely breathing.
Like he’s afraid any movement will be the wrong one.
I’m too exhausted to deal with it. The fire is warm. The cave is dry. My muscles ache in ways I didn’t know muscles could ache.
I close my eyes.
The bond hums between us — wrong at the edges, but not threatening. Not anymore.
I fall asleep.
I wake because I’m warm.
Not fire-warm. Not Torric-rune warm.
Body warm.
A slow, steady heat pressed against my spine, radiating through frozen muscles I didn’t realize were still clenched.
It takes me a breath to understand why.
Darian.
At some point during the night, he must have shifted. Or I did. Or both. But now his chest is flush against my back — one long, solid line of heat.
And his arm—
His arm is around my waist.
Just resting there. Fingers grazing the fabric of my shirt like he didn’t dare hold on. Like even in sleep he was trying not to take too much space.
My breath catches.
The bond answers. A low hum deep under my ribs, warmer than it’s ever felt. Not right. Not whole. But quiet.
