"Go home."
The words made me stop struggling in his arms.
Home?
For a second, my eyes widened. Then something heavy settled in my chest.
I didn't have a home anymore.
The Miller Residence was never mine. It had always been a territory where I was barely tolerated. And Finnick's villa… I had moved in after our sudden bond ceremony, but I never allowed myself to see it as more than shelter. Just a roof. A place to sleep. A temporary arrangement born out of convenience and pack pressure.
It was never home.
Yet as I sat on Finnick's lap, his arm firm around my waist, something warm began to bloom inside me. It felt like the first hint of spring after a long, brutal winter. Slow. Careful. Fragile.
I looked at him.
The streetlight softened the sharp lines of his face. His expression was calm, but his hold on me was steady, protective. There was nothing hesitant about him. No doubt. No second thoughts.
