The cottage looked abandoned. Windows dark, garden buried under snow, the wards she'd set weeks ago barely flickering. But it was still standing. Still hers.
"I haven't been here in so long," she said quietly. "Feels like years instead of days."
"A lot happened in those days." Tristan stopped at her door, waiting while she found the key. "You almost died. Multiple times."
"So did you." She unlocked the door, pushed it open to reveal interior that smelled stale and cold. "The lake nearly killed you."
"But it didn't." He followed her inside, his presence immediately making the small space feel safer. "We survived. Both of us."
Maren moved through the cottage mechanically, opening shutters, lighting the fire Freya had helped her prepareyesterday. Her shadows spread across familiar floors, settling into corners they'd claimed as theirs.
Home. This was home, even if it had nearly gotten her killed.
Tristan stood by the door, watching her move. Not quite leaving but not quite staying either.
"You should sit," Maren said, gesturing to the chair near the fire. "Warm up before you head back."
"I should go. Let you rest."
"Tristan." She turned to face him fully. "Please sit."
He did, slowly, his gauze-wrapped hands resting on his knees. The firelight from the flames she got going painted his face in gold and shadow, highlighting the sharp angles, the ice-blue eyes that had seen too much.
Maren sat across from him, gathering courage she wasn't sure she had. "I need to tell you something."
"You don't have to say anything."
"I do." She cut him off gently. "Because I ran. Left you in that cabin without explanation. Let you think it was regret when it wasn't."
His expression went carefully neutral. "What was it then?"
"Fear." The word came out easier than expected. "I was terrified that if I stayed, if I let myself want you, the town would turn on you too. Make you pay for defending me. And I couldn't watch that happen."
"So you left to protect me."
"I left because I'm a coward." Maren's hands twisted in her lap. "Because everyone I've ever cared about has suffered for it. My mother died alone hiding that locket. My grandmother died in exile. And I've spent my life keeping people at arm's length so they wouldn't get hurt by proximity."
She forced herself to meet his eyes. "That morning in the cabin, I woke up next to you and felt happy. Actually happy, for the first time in years. And it terrified me because happinesshas always been temporary. Always ended with loss or pain or watching someone I love get hurt because of what I am."
Tristan leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. Listening with the same intensity he brought to investigations. Like her words mattered more than evidence or facts.
"So I ran," Maren continued. "Told myself I was protecting you. That leaving was kinder than staying. But the truth is I ran because I wanted you too much. Because letting myself have you meant admitting I deserved something good, and I've never been very good at believing that."
The fire crackled in the silence that followed. Her shadows curled closer, drawn to the heat.
"Are you done?" Tristan asked quietly.
"I think so. Yes."
"Good. Because it's my turn." He stood, crossing to her chair. Crouched in front of it so they were eye level. "You're right. You are a coward. But so am I."
Maren started to protest but he kept talking.
"I watched my mate die because people were afraid of what she was. Spent three years telling myself I'd never let anyone close enough to hurt like that again." His hands found hers, gauze rough against her skin. "Then you showed up. Stubborn and scared and trying so hard to be invisible while your shadows screamed for attention.”
"I knew what you were the moment we worked that warding circle together. Felt the bond trying to form. Felt my tiger recognize yours even though you're not a shifter." His ice-blue eyes met hers. "And I was terrified. Because you're supposed to get one mate. One chance at that kind of connection. Getting a second felt like the universe playing a cruel joke."
"Is that what I am? A cruel joke?"
