She was stronger than she knew. Stronger than any of us, maybe. She'd survived things that would have broken most people, and she was still here, still fighting, still letting herself love despite every reason not to.
Easton Branston wanted to take that from her. From us.
A knock on the clinic door pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up to find Aster standing in the doorway, her gray eyes soft with concern, her dark hair pulled back in a loose braid that left tendrils framing her face, her fingers twisting together in front of her in that nervous habit she had.
"Hey." Her voice was gentle, hesitant, like she wasn't sure if she was interrupting something important, her weight shifting from foot to foot as she hovered at the threshold. "You missed lunch. Kol made sandwiches, and he's convinced you're wasting away."
"I'm fine." The words came out automatically, but even I could hear how hollow they sounded, my hands tightening on the pen I'd forgotten I was holding, my shoulders hunching defensively. "Just catching up on some things."
"You've been staring at that same page for half an hour." She stepped into the clinic, her bare feet silent on the wooden floor, her scent — lilac and honey, now threaded through with traces of all four of us — wrapping around me like a comfort, her gray eyes studying my face with quiet concern. "I've been watching from the window."
I set down the pen, running a hand through my hair, feeling the exhaustion I'd been trying to ignore settle into my shoulders like a physical weight.
"I can't stop thinking about it." The admission came out rougher than I intended, my voice catching on the words, my jaw tightening with the effort of holding back the flood of emotion threatening to spill over. "About him. About what he said to you. About what he wanted to do."
Aster crossed the room and settled into the chair across from my desk, her gray eyes steady on my face, her expression open and patient, her hands folding in her lap with a calm that seemed almost deliberate.
"Tell me." Her voice was soft, an invitation rather than a demand, her head tilting slightly as she watched me, her scent reaching out like a gentle touch.
"I keep running through scenarios in my head." I leaned back in my chair, my eyes finding the ceiling, unable to meet her gaze while I said this, my fingers drumming restlessly on the desk. "Clinical assessments. Risk factors. Probability matrices." I laughed, but there was no humor in it, the sound bitter and raw, scraping against my throat. "That's what I do. I analyze. I diagnose. I find solutions."
"And?" She prompted gently, her scent reaching out to me, soothing and warm, her gray eyes patient and unwavering.
"And every scenario ends with me wanting to hurt him." The words came out like a confession, like something shameful, my hands clenching on the arms of my chair until my knuckles went white, my voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "I'm a healer, Aster. I've spent my entire adult life learning how to fix things, how to mend what's broken, how to ease suffering." I finally met her eyes, and I knew she could see the turmoil in mine, the conflict that had been tearing me apart for days, my green eyes bright with emotion I couldn't hide. "But when I thinkabout him near you, when I imagine his hands on you, his scent on your skin — I don't want to heal. I want to destroy."
Aster was quiet for a long moment, her gray eyes studying my face with an intensity that made me feel stripped bare, her expression thoughtful rather than shocked.
"That scares you." It wasn't a question, her voice soft with understanding, her head tilting slightly as she watched me, her fingers uncurling in her lap like she wanted to reach for me.
"Yes." I swallowed hard, my throat tight, my voice cracking on the single syllable. "I've never felt like this before. This... rage. This need to protect that goes beyond anything rational." I shook my head, my hands unclenching and clenching again on the chair arms, my jaw working as I struggled to find the words. "Reid was born for this. Sawyer has always had that darkness in him, that capacity for violence when necessary. Even Kol, for all his sunshine, has that fierce protectiveness." I met her eyes again, and I knew I looked lost, confused, nothing like the steady Alpha she'd come to rely on, my sandy hair falling across my forehead in disarray. "But me? I heal. That's what I do. That's who I am."
Aster stood from her chair and rounded the desk, and before I could process what she was doing, she was settling into my lap, her arms wrapping around my neck, her face pressing against my throat, her warmth seeping into me like medicine.
"You're still who you are." Her voice was muffled against my skin, her breath warm on my pulse point, her fingers threading through the hair at the nape of my neck with gentle, soothing strokes. "Wanting to protect someone you love doesn't change that. It just means you have more to fight for."
I wrapped my arms around her automatically, pulling her closer, breathing in her scent until it filled my lungs and quieted some of the chaos in my head, my whole body relaxing into her warmth.
"I love you." The words slipped out before I could stop them, raw and honest and more vulnerable than I'd intended, my arms tightening around her like I was afraid she might disappear. "I know we haven't — I mean, things have been moving so fast, and I didn't want to pressure you, but?—"
"Nolan." She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, her gray gaze soft and warm, a small smile curving her lips, her fingers still playing with the hair at my nape. "I know."
"You know?" My voice came out slightly strangled, my heart pounding against my ribs so hard I was sure she could feel it, my green eyes searching her face desperately.
"You show me every day." She traced her fingers along my jaw, her touch gentle, her eyes never leaving mine, her voice soft and certain. "Every time you check on me without making it obvious. Every time you make sure I've eaten, that I've slept, that I'm not pushing myself too hard." Her smile widened, something tender blooming in her expression, her gray eyes warm as summer rain. "Every time you look at me like I'm something precious. Like I matter."
"You do matter." The words came out fierce, more intense than I'd intended, my hands tightening on her waist, my green eyes blazing with sudden conviction. "You matter more than anything. More than this clinic, more than my training, more than — God, Aster, you matter more than everything I thought I was."
She leaned in and pressed her lips to mine, soft and sweet, and something in my chest cracked open. The kiss was gentle at first, almost tentative, her lips soft against mine, her fingers tightening in my hair. But when I pulled her closer, when a sound escaped my throat that was part relief and part desperation, she deepened it, her body pressing against mine, her tongue sliding against my lower lip.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, her eyes were bright and her cheeks were flushed and she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
"I'm falling in love with you too." Her voice was barely above a whisper, her fingers still tangled in my hair, her gray eyes holding mine with fierce honesty, her breath coming quick against my lips. "I'm not all the way there yet — I'm still learning how to do this, how to let myself feel things without waiting for the other shoe to drop. But I'm falling, Nolan. I'm not as scared as I used to be."
I pulled her close again, burying my face against her neck, breathing her in, letting her words settle into my bones like a healing balm.
"I'll wait." My voice came out rough, muffled against her skin, my arms wrapped around her like I'd never let go. "As long as you need. I'll wait forever if that's what it takes."
Her arms tightened around me, and we stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the chaos in my head finally quieting into something manageable.
