The door opened and closed behind him. He heard her footsteps, tentative and slow, crossing the cabin’s small floor.
“Rykan.”
He didn’t answer, just stared into the growing flames and willed her to leave him alone.
“Rykan, please. Talk to me.”
“Nothing to talk about.” His voice came out harsh, rough with barely contained emotion. “You’ve made your choice.”
“What choice?” she asked quietly after a long silence. “I haven’t chosen anything.”
He laughed—a bitter, broken sound that echoed off the walls. “Haven’t you? You need to go back. Those were your words.”
“Yes, and?—”
“And nothing.” He rose to his feet, keeping his back to her. “You have your answers now. You know who tried to kill you. The pass will clear soon, and you’ll return to your world and your company and your aunt, and that will be the end of it.”
“The end of what?”
He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Because putting words to what existed between them would make it real, and he couldn’t afford that. Not when she was already leaving.
He heard her move closer. He felt the warmth of her presence at his back, too near for comfort, yet not nearly near enough to satisfy the beast prowling inside him.
“You think I want to leave,” she said softly. “You think I’m choosing to abandon you.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No.” Her hand touched his arm, and he flinched like she’d burned him. “Rykan, look at me. Please.”
He turned before he could stop himself. It was a mistake—he knew it the instant he saw her face. Her grey eyes were bright with unshed tears, her cheeks flushed from cold and exhaustion, her expression a complicated mix of hurt and confusion and desperation.
“I have to go back,” she said. “Not because I want to leave you. Because Marina won’t stop. If she was willing to kill me, she’s willing to kill others. And as long as I’m officially dead, she has everything she ever wanted. My company. My father’s legacy. Everything he worked for.”
“Then let her have it.” The words tore out of him, savage and desperate. “Stay here. With me. Let her think you’re dead.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.” He caught her shoulders, his grip just short of bruising. “You choose not to. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?” She met his gaze without flinching, and he saw the steel beneath her softness—the same steel he’d been watching develop over weeks of training and struggle and quiet determination. “You walked away from your pack. From your birthright. From everything you were supposed to be. Was that really a choice? Or was it the only option you could live with?”
The question struck him like a blow. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except stare at this impossible woman who somehow understood him better than he understood himself.
“That was different,” he managed finally.
“Was it? You gave up everything to protect people who betrayed you. You sacrificed your future so your pack wouldn’t tear itself apart.” She reached up and touched his face, her fingers gentle against his jaw. “But I’m afraid that my company will tear itself apart without me. I have to fight for what’s mine. And I need you to understand that.”
He wanted to. Gods, how he wanted to. But his beast only understood one thing..
She was abandoning him. Like Lysara. Like his pack. Like everyone he’d ever trusted.
He released her shoulders and stepped back, putting distance between them that felt like miles. “You should rest. It’s been a long day.”
“Rykan—”
“I need air.” He was already moving towards the door, unable to look at her any longer, unable to stay in the same room and pretend he wasn’t falling apart.
He fled into the snow like the coward he’d always known himself to be.
