“Are you hit,” I demand, my voice suddenly rough with something that isn’t rage.
She shakes her head.
“No. You took it for me.”
“Shit.”
She swallows hard.
“Tur,” she says quietly. “We need to talk right now. Out loud. With actual words.”
I nod once.
Sharp.
Barely contained.
“Consent,” she says, her forehead still pressed to mine. “I am choosing closeness with you right now. Not because I’m scared. Not because your instincts are losing their shit. Because I want to. Because it helps you stay here. Do you understand that.”
“Yes,” I breathe.
“I need to hear you say you’re choosing it too,” she continues, her voice shaking now. “Not because the bond is screaming. Not because you’re in kill mode. Because you want me here.”
My throat tightens painfully.
“I choose you,” I say hoarsely. “I want you here. With me. Like this.”
“Good,” she whispers. “Then stay.”
I press my forehead harder against hers.
The jalshagar does something strange.
It doesn’t spike.
It doesn’t roar.
It… settles.
Floods my system with heat and clarity instead of annihilation.
My breathing evens out.
My hands stop shaking.
“I’ve got you,” she murmurs. “You’re not alone in this.”
We don’t move for a long moment.
Just breathe.
Just exist.
Then I force myself to stand, my shoulder screaming in protest.
“We need to get out of here,” I say.
She nods.
