"Don't be. Just don't let them do the same to you." He looked at her across the firelit space. "Whatever your bloodline can do, whoever you could become, that's not what makes you dangerous. Fear does."
"How do you know I'm not dangerous?"
"Because I've seen dangerous. Lived with it. Survived it." His expression softened fractionally. "You're not it."
The simple statement caught her off guard with how much it meant to hear that opinion.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"For what?"
"For saying that. I needed to hear it."
He looked almost sad for a moment but then his mouth quirked slightly. "Takes more than forbidden bloodline magic to scare me."
"What does scare you?"
Tristan’s quirk faded, firelight painting shadows across his face.
"Failing again," he finally said. "Not being strong enough when it matters."
She decided not to push further. Outside, the storm raged. Inside, something fragile and dangerous settled between them in the silence that followed.
Maren didn't know what it was, just that she couldn't afford to trust it.
9
TRISTAN
The storm broke just after dawn, leaving behind a world buried in white and unnaturally quiet.
Tristan stood at the safe house window, watching gray light filter through heavy clouds. Restlessness crawled through his muscles, the instinct that had kept him alive in a dozen war zones screaming that this calm wouldn't last.
The sky knew it too.
Behind him, Maren slept in the loft, her breathing even and her shadows appeared across the rafters like dark silk. They'd talked until past midnight, her confessions about forbidden bloodline magic sitting heavy in his mind along everything else he couldn't afford to feel.
He pulled on his coat and stepped outside. The cold bit hard, sharp enough to clear his head. He needed to report to the Council before the weather closed in again. But honestly, he needed the distance.
To stop thinking about how right it felt having her nearby.
His comm thankfully broke his thoughts. "Ash, copy?"
"Copy."
"Emmett wants you at the glade. Now." Mills sounded tense. "Bram's pushing for an emergency session."
"On my way."
The ride to the Council Glade took longer than usual, snow drifted high across paths that had been clear days ago. By the time Tristan arrived, Emmett and Miriam were already there, along with Bram and two other Council members.
"Report," Emmett ordered.
Tristan kept his voice low, level. "Magical interference last night during the storm. A candle flame turned blue and exploded. Shadow signature, but not controlled by Maren. Something external triggered her magic."
"How convenient," Bram said. "Magical incidents always seem to happen when she's involved."
"She didn't cause it. She was trying to stop it when the flame exploded."
