I still.Because that, I understand.
“My birth pack wasn’t this pack,” I say slowly.“They were rigid.Hierarchical.Anyone who didn’t fit their idea of normal or strong was disposable.”
Her eyes flick back to mine, startled.
“They exiled me because I wouldn’t be what they wanted,” I continue.“I told the truth and it was the wrong thing.They called me unpredictable because I wouldn’t lie.”
The bond softens, recognition threading through it.
“So, when you hid this from me,” I say quietly, “it wasn’t just about the lie.It was about the choice you took away.”
She swallows hard.“I was trying to protect us.”
“I know,” I repeat.“But protection without trust is just control wearing a kinder face.”
Tears spill over, silent and unrestrained.“I didn’t want to lose you.”
“You almost did,” I say honestly.
She flinches like I struck her and I hate myself for the way that feels necessary.“I don’t say that to punish you,” I add immediately.“I say it because our bond won’t survive half-truths.Not here.Not with me.”
She nods, tears streaking her face.“I’ll never lie to you again.”
I hold her gaze.“Don’t promise what fear might break.”
She looks confused.
“Promise effort,” I clarify.“Promise that when you’re scared, you tell me that much at least.”
Her nod is fierce.“I can do that.”
I believe her and that scares me too.Faith in someone is scary because it can make or break you, but we will both need to learn to move beyond our fears.The silence stretches again, different this time, raw and exposed.
“You saved lives tonight,” I say finally.“Every single one of them.Including mine.”
Her breath hitches.“I almost got you killed.”
“You got me hurt,” I correct.“By doing exactly what we all signed up to do.”
I take a careful breath, ribs protesting.“What I need to know is this, if it happens again, if the dead warn you of something worse ...will you come to me first?”
She doesn’t hesitate.“Yes.”No qualifiers.No fear.
The bond responds immediately, warmth flooding through the ache in my chest, knitting something back together that I hadn’t realized had torn.I step forward then and pull her into my arms.She stiffens for half a second before melting against me, hands fisting in my shirt like she’s holding on to the last solid thing in the world.
“I was so scared,” she whispers into my chest.
“I know,” I murmur, resting my cheek against her hair.“I felt it.”
We stand there a long time, letting the bond settle into something quieter, steadier, bruised but intact.
When she finally pulls back, her eyes search my face.“Are we okay?”
I consider the question carefully.“We’re not broken,” I say.“And we’re not done.”Relief crashes through her so hard she has to brace herself against me.“But,” I add gently, “trust is a living thing.We need to feed it, or it starves.”
She nods, wiping at her cheeks.“I’ll feed it.”
I almost smile.Almost.The Hunters are still out there.The dead are still watching.And Trinity’s gift isn’t something that will ever fade into the background.
