Isla

  I made it to my room before the tightness in my chest became unbearable. I wasn’t running. Not really. I just needed space.

  The conversation with Finn still hummed in my mind, settling in my ribs like something too heavy to shake off. Fated. A bond that wasn’t just a myth, wasn’t just a thing that happened to other people.

  It was us.

  I could still feel the weight of Finn’s words, the certainty in his voice. I hated the idea of not having a choice in the matter. How was he okay with it?

  And the worst part?

  I knew he was right. Everything he said.

  I exhaled sharply, pressing my hands into my temples as I sat on the edge of the bed. The snakes curled around me, restless, mirroring the unease curling in my stomach. Only now that I’d stopped moving did I notice the tremor in my hands. Just a faint vibration at first, like my nerves were misfiring. I clenched my fingers into fists, willing it to stop. It didn’t.

  The adrenaline letdown. It always came later, after everything was over. After the running, the fighting, the pretending I wasn’t terrified. The shakes would hit once I was alone, once my body realized it was safe enough to fall apart for a minute.

  A soft knock at the door made me jolt. I hesitated before exhaling, dragging a hand through my hair. I knew who it was. I always knew, because yes, I could always feel him with some sense that was hard to identify. “Come in.”

  The door opened, and Finn leaned against the frame, watching me carefully. His usual smirk was absent. Instead, there was something quieter, more deliberate in his expression.

  He didn’t speak right away, just studied me, like he was waiting for me to push him away.

  I didn’t. It would be so easy to just go into his arms. To be comforted. But the reality was, I barely knew this man. And would it be my feelings or some otherworldly chosen-for-me bond that would be comforting me?

  Finally, he stepped inside, his gaze flicking over me, assessing. “You okay?”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  I let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Sure. It’s been a great day.”

  His lips quirked, but he didn’t argue.

  Could it be that just this morning we were in my apartment, talking, relaxing?

  He took another step closer, hands in his pockets. I could feel the weight of his hesitation, the almost-instinct to reach out. But something held him back.

  Or rather—someone.

  “Blue’s gonna bite me if I try to comfort you,” Finn mused, his voice dry.

  I glanced down at my shoulder, where Blue was coiled, her dark scales shifting slightly. Surprising. Didn’t know she had it in her. I wasn’t sure what had gotten into her.

  “Looks like it,” I admitted.

  Finn sighed, shaking his head. For a second, it seemed like that was it. Like he’d keep his distance, let me process on my own. A small, unwelcome sadness tugged at my chest before I could shove it down.

  Apparently not fast enough. Something in my expression must have slipped, because Finn’s eyes sharpened and his jaw tightened like he’d just made up his mind about something.

  He stepped forward, closing the space between us, and before I could react his arms wrapped around me, solid and steady.

  And, as predicted— I heard Finn’s faint hiss of pain as it was clear that Blue struck. I couldn’t see but I could feel movement. I imagined that sharp fangs sank into Finn’s forearm, a warning bite meant to drive him away. He just reached up with his free hand, pried Blue off, like it was nothing.

  Like I was more important.

  “It’s okay, girl,” he soothed. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to comfort me or Blue, but my heart responded anyway.

  That’s what did it. The steady, unshaken weight of his presence. The realization that he wasn’t letting me sit in this alone. My breath hitched, and before I could stop myself, I moved. Shifted forward, pressing into his chest, letting my head rest against him as my arms curled around his waist. I’d let myself regret and overthink it after.

  Finn didn’t hesitate. His hand came up to the back of my head, fingers threading gently into my hair. Not pushing, not forcing—just there.

  The snakes, still uneasy, slowly shifted. I felt them stretch toward him, curling loosely around his arms, his shoulders. Vipes settled along his collarbone, Thena rested against his wrist. Even Blue, despite her earlier attack, wound herself back around Finn’s arm—this time, not biting.

  Just holding on. And that’s when the shaking really started. My hands trembled where they gripped his shirt, the tremor spreading through my arms, my shoulders. The adrenaline that had carried me through the day finally burned out, leaving my body buzzing and weak. Normally I rode it out alone—paced the room, breathed through it, waited for the storm in my veins to pass.

  But this time there was nowhere to hide it.

  Finn felt it immediately. His arms tightened around me, one hand sliding down my back in a slow, grounding rhythm like he’d done this before. Like he understood exactly what was happening.

  No one had ever been there for this part. But Finn was this time. I closed my eyes, gripping his shirt tighter. “This is a lot,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

  Finn exhaled, resting his chin lightly against my hair. “Yeah,” he murmured. “It is.”

  He didn’t tell me it would be okay. Didn’t feed me empty reassurances. He just held on. And for the first time in years, I let someone else carry the weight with me.