For half a breath, he stills. Not visibly, not dramatically, but something in him tightens—like a pulled thread beneath the skin. His eyes remain fixed on the ground, yet I can feel the way he’s listening to me, almost against his will. It hurts to watch him fight so hard to remain untouched by what I’m saying, even though I know my words are landing exactly where they’re supposed to.
“But that doesn’t matter now, does it?” he finally says, and his voice is quieter than before, more fragile, as if he’s afraid it might break in his hands. “You kissed him, Asha.Him.”
Guilt surges through me like something alive and clawing. “I didn’t want to. Ihadto. Ziek was going to die.” My throat tightens, and I hate how defensive I sound, like I’m scrambling for some version of the truth that could soothe him.
Ryder finally turns his head just enough to look at me, and it feels like the world narrows to the expression in his eyes. There’s hurt there; raw, unmasked, and unsoftened by bravado or anger.
“I don’t care that you had to,” he whispers. “I care that you did. I care that I was right. That you don’t trust me. And maybe you never will.”
The words land with a weight that almost knocks the air out of me. He’s not shouting, not accusing; he’s simply stating the truth as he sees it, and that makes it cut even deeper.
“It was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make,” I say, voice trembling despite my best efforts to stay composed. My palms feel damp. My chest feels too tight. I want to crawl out of my own skin.
“It shouldn’t have been hard,” he replies, almost to himself, almost as though he’s trying to understand it too. “It shouldn’t… Gods, Asha, it shouldn’t be hard.” He looks away again. “Not if you trusted me.”
And he’s right. I know he’s right. I’ve known it since the moment hesitation took root in my heart. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment things shifted between us—maybe it was the serum, maybe it was the Hollow, maybe it was something older and more fragile than either of us realised—but the ease we once had feels like a distant, unreachable memory.
“I know,” I admit softly. “And I would’ve chosen you above anyone else. I still would. But River… he’s always there for me.”
“—and I’m not?” Ryder cuts in sharply, eyes flashing with disbelief and wounded pride.
Before I can answer, before I can stop anything from spiralling even further out of control, River speaks.
“Hey, at least I never tried to kill her.”
And that is the ignition point.
Ryder moves before thought can intervene—a blur of instinct and fury—and the next second he’s slamming into River,sending them both crashing to the ground. The violence is sudden and explosive, almost feral. I lunge forward, panic clawing up my throat.
“Stop it!” I shout, but my voice barely seems to penetrate the storm they’ve erupted into.
Ryder’s fist cracks against River’s jaw with a sickening thud. “Youenjoyedit,” he snarls through clenched teeth. “I felt it.” Another punch lands, harder. “The butterflies you get around her—you think I don’t feel them too?”
River grunts, twisting, and manages to flip them, fury gnarling his features into something unrecognisable.
“She deserves better than you,” he spits, landing his own vicious blow.
“River stop.” I cry, but the Hollow just swallows my plea.
Each word feels like it’s stabbing straight through me, leaving thin, stinging lines in the air between us.
Before I can intervene, before Ziek can even move, Ryder roars—an unearthly, guttural sound—and something in the world shifts.
River lifts off the ground.
Not thrown by Ryder’s hands.
Thrown bysomething else.
He slams into a tree with a violent crack that echoes through the forest, sliding down to the base with a groan.
Ziek and I freeze, horror rooting our feet to the ground.
Ryder stands over the flattened leaves, chest heaving, eyes blown wide in shock. He looks from River to his own trembling hands, then finally to me.
And in that moment—
in the stunned silence that follows—
