I told him everything then. The scars. Atlas. The lie. The vision. My voice shook, but I didn’t stop.
When I finished, he was silent for a long moment.
Then he turned my hand palm up, holding it between both of his, thumbs brushing over my knuckles with unexpected tenderness.
“You cannot blame yourself,” he said, barely a whisper. “You were used. A pawn, nothing more.” Emotion welled hot and sudden in my throat.
“Thank you, I appreciate that. More than you know,”I whispered.
For a heartbeat, we just looked at each other. The sheet slipped slightly, baring my shoulders, and his breath hitched almost imperceptibly. He cleared his throat and stood abruptly, reaching for his tunic.
“I will grant you your privacy,” he said, turning away. “We leave soon. Food will be brought to you.”
“Thank you,” I said again, and he paused on his way out of the tent. His back was to me, and his muscles seemed to tense before relaxing as he looked at me over his shoulder.
Then he told me, in a soft, gentle tone,“You’re very welcome, Alexandra.”
The way he said my name lingered long after he left, heavy with something that made my heart ache.
After that, I was left alone, naked, embarrassed, and very aware that nothing about this journey was going to be simple again.
By the time Aster’s voice drifted through the canvas of the tent, I was mostly dressed. Which was to say I had managed underwear, pants, socks, boots, and a shirt without falling overor setting anything on fire, which, from the sounds of it, I would have done last night.
The sheets had been hastily abandoned, the mortification from earlier still lingering like a bruise that refused to heal. But the worst of the fog from the night before had lifted enough that I could think clearly again, which was both a blessing and a curse.
“Alex?” Aster called, careful, like he wasn’t entirely sure what state he was about to find me in.
“You can come in,” I replied, mouth already full as I reached for another strip of bacon from the plate balanced on the small table nearby. Breakfast had arrived quietly while I was dressing, the smell alone enough to anchor me fully back in my body, and I had eaten like someone who hadn’t realized just how hungry they were until the food was in front of them.
The tent flap lifted, and Aster ducked inside. His eyes found me immediately, scanning me from head to toe with obvious relief before softening into something more familiar.
“You look… alive,” he said.
“Barely,” I replied around a bite, then swallowed and gestured to the space beside me on the bed. “Sit.”
He did, carefully, the mattress dipping beneath his weight, and for a moment we just looked at each other, the silence comfortable but heavy with everything that hadn’t been said yet.
“I’m sorry,” we blurted at the same time.
We both froze.
“What?” we asked, again together.
A beat passed.
Then we laughed.
It started quietly, a surprised huff from him, a breathy snort from me, and then it built, relief and familiarity tumbling out in a way that felt almost absurd after everything we’d been through.
“We’ve been spending way too much time together,” I commented once I could breathe again, wiping at my eyes.
Aster grinned.
“That, or we’re starting to share a brain.”
I nudged his shoulder with mine.
“I bet your life was a lot simpler before I came along.”
