Then, surprisingly, Thane speaks.
"You disappeared," he says, silver eyes finding mine. "And I noticed. I just didn't know what I was allowed to do about it."
Stellan adds softly, "That's the problem. None of us are asking. We're all assuming. And it's starting to show."
I stare around the table at all of them—these men who've somehow become the center of my world without me noticing. They're not perfect. They mess up, make assumptions, hurt each other without meaning to.
But they're here. They're trying.
And maybe that's enough.
"I don't know how to do this," I admit quietly. "Any of this. I don't know how to be wanted or needed or... important to people. I've never had that before."
"None of us do," Rhett says. "But we figure it out as we go."
"Together," Wes adds, and something warm unfurls in my chest.
The Ether curls gently around our feet, content and settled in a way it hasn't been in days. Like it approves of this moment, this honesty, this decision to stay instead of run.
We finish dinner in comfortable quiet, the floating lights growing brighter as true darkness falls. No one moves to leave. No one breaks the silence with jokes or deflection.
We just... stay.
And for the first time in too long, staying doesn't feel like a trap.
It feels like a promise.
Chapter 40
Jace
"You seriously want to go alone again?"
Bree pauses in the doorway, one hand on the frame, and gives me that look. The one that says she knows exactly what I'm doing but hasn't decided if she's annoyed or amused yet.
It's the fourth day in a row she's done this—slipping out after breakfast to check on the camps, help with repairs, heal small things with that instinctive Ether touch of hers. And it's the fourth day I've watched her go without saying anything.
"Come on, sunshine," I continue, leaning against the wall with what I hope looks like casual confidence. "You've got, like, ten adoring bodyguards and you pick 'solo brooding in the woods' as your hobby?"
"Jace..." There's warning in her voice, but her mouth is fighting a smile.
I grin. "Tell me you don't want me with you. Go ahead. Say it with a straight face."
She tries. I can see her trying to look stern, trying to maintain that careful distance she's been wrapping around herself lately. But the smile wins, small and genuine, and something warm settles in my chest.
"Fine," she says. "But no complaining when your shoes get muddy."
"Sweetheart, I live for muddy shoes."
She rolls her eyes as we head out through the back door, as I pretend not to notice.
The sanctuary forest is alive with dappled sunlight and the soft hum of Ether-touched homes scattered between the trees like living lanterns. It's been a few days since the garden dinner, since everything shifted and settled into something that feels almost normal.
Well. Normal for us.
Bree moves through the camps with easy grace, checking on new arrivals, offering help in that way that only Bree can manage. The Ether flows around her feet like water, lighting her steps, responding to needs she hasn't even noticed yet.
A teenage girl braiding flowers into the moss-covered steps of her new home looks up as we pass. She holds out a white blossom to Bree with shy reverence.
