-Alexia-
The courtyard was washed in pale gold as the sun crept higher over Whisperwind's walls. The stones still held the cool damp of night, and the wards thrummed faintly beneath my feet, soft but insistent, like a massive, sleeping heart. The low light did little to soften the sharp lines of the old fortress or the harder lines of worry etched onto Jasper's face.
Jasper stood beside me, close enough that his presence brushed against mine, a subtle heat that was more a memory of closeness than actual contact. But it was his restraint that was almost worse than distance—it made the unspoken words between us louder, heavier, impossible to ignore. Every half-inch of space felt like a chasm carved by his past failure and my lingering pain.
Zeus padded around us in a slow, deliberate circle, as though keeping guard. His amber eyes flicked between Jasper and me, sensing the tension in every shallow breath, every unsteady beat of my heart. He was a silent, furry anchor, his presence grounding the volatile energy swirling between his two-legs.
I dragged my fingers along the carved rune at my side, the stone cold against my skin. Silver threads of chaos sparked faintly at my touch, restless, reflecting the turmoil twisting inside me. I couldn't carry the weight of the silence any longer.
"You've been holding back," I said quietly, my eyes fixed on the rune, tracing the complex knot of protection and defiance it represented.
Jasper's fae-light glow flickered at the edges of my vision, dim and uneven. "So have you." His voice was a low rasp, acknowledging the truth without apology.
I turned to face him fully, the morning light catching the shadows beneath his eyes, the weariness carved deep into his face. "You've had chances to say the truth—the full truth. You didn't." The omission had hurt as much as the initial betrayal. It was the continued distance, the unspoken burden.
His jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides, the knuckles white. "I betrayed you, Lex," he said bluntly, his voice raw with self-recrimination. "I should have stood by you, but I didn't. I let fear—my fear of the Council, of my own lineage, of everything—decide for me. And when it mattered most, I wasn't at your side. I stood by and watched." He swallowed hard, a visible effort. "I don't expect you to forgive me. I just need you to know I'll never make that mistake again."
The ache in my chest twisted tighter, a physical knot of residual anger and profound sadness. "You have already told me this, Jasper. Many times."
His shoulders sagged, not in surrender, but endurance. "Then I'll keep saying it until you believe me. Until I believe I can be worthy of your belief again."
Silver threads flared across my fingertips, my chaos sparking with the storm I couldn't contain, matching the rising temperature in the courtyard. "Words don't erase the moment you chose not to stand beside me," I said, sharper than I meant to, the phrase a jagged tear in the quiet morning. "Do you think sorry is enough? That repeating it will make me forget the look on your face when you let the Council bind me? When you let me bleed alone?"
His fae-light flared, answering the jagged edge in my voice, pushing back the shadows around him. "Do you think I don't remember?" he snapped, the control he'd held so tightly finally snapping. "I see it every night, Alexia. I hear your scream every time I close my eyes. You think you're the only one haunted? I've been drowning in it—drowning in you—and no matter what I do, I can't take it back! The regret is a brand, a constant burn."
The air between us trembled, chaos and fae-light colliding in jagged, silent pulses. The stone floor vibrated. Zeus pressed his flank firmly against my leg, a low, rumbling growl grounding me, keeping the raw storm from tearing loose and shattering the fragile peace of the morning.
"Then why now?" I demanded, the sheer grief finally breaking through the fury, shaking my voice. "Why fight for me when it's too late? Why risk everything, your position, your life, to protect me now?"
"Because it's not too late," Jasper said fiercely. He took a single, deliberate step closer. His hand trembled as he reached toward me, stopping just shy of my skin, respecting the hair's breadth of distance that was the boundary of my pain. "Because I love you, Lex, even when I'm a coward. Even when I've failed. And I'd rather fight every demon in my own soul than watch you face Gideon and everything he represents alone."
The words struck harder than any spell. They weren't a confession; they were a declaration of war—a war fought on my behalf. My walls cracked, splintering under the undeniable, profound truth in his voice. This wasn't the boy who feared his father's disapproval; this was a man choosing a side, my side, irrevocably.
"I'm scared too," I whispered, the admission forcing the breath from my lungs. The chaos flickering across my skin was unsteady, weak, betraying my internal terror. "Not of you, or your power. Of me. Of failing you. Of losing everyone again." I shifted my gaze to his, finally letting him see the deep-seated dread. "Every night I see the moment I lost control. I see the devastation. I see how easily I could destroy the people I love. I could destroy Whisperwind."
He stepped closer, closing the last of the distance between us, his fae-light brushing mine, steady and unyielding, a warm counterpoint to my volatile silver. "Then stop carrying it alone," he commanded, his eyes burning with a conviction that melted my fear. "We'll face the fear together. We'll control the power together. And if you fall, I'll be there to catch you."
His hand finally moved, brushing mine. I braced myself for the violent, expected clash of two powers that theory dictated should never touch—two elemental forces meant to repel and destroy. But instead of tearing apart, the magic wove. Silver and gold threads, wild yet steady, intricate yet harmonious, flowed together across the touchpoint of our skins. The old, forgotten rune beneath our feet, carved into the ancient courtyard stone, caught the sudden fusion. It flared, glowing bright, and the wards of Whisperwind pulsed like a massive, triumphant second heartbeat.
We both stared as the light rippled outward, the silver-gold energy embedding itself into the very foundation of the fortress. Whisperwind itself seemed to listen, to hold its breath, accepting this unlikely bond.
"No matter what comes," Jasper vowed, his voice low, firm, and absolutely certain, a sound that resonated deep in my bones, "I won't leave you again. I swear it on my light and my life."
The words didn't reopen the wound. They didn't simply stop the bleeding. They stitched it, pulling the torn edges of my heart back together with the thread of his conviction. I tightened my fingers around his, letting the fused, harmonic magic anchor us both in the reality of this promise.
"And I won't push you away," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion, the chaos in my veins settling into a calm, powerful hum. "We face it together. Always."
The vow settled in the air between us, heavy and unshakable, witnessed by the ancient wards. Silver and gold light arced up the courtyard walls, spilling a new dawn into the fortress. For one suspended, sacred moment, the world seemed to believe with us. The past was not forgotten, but it was finally laid to rest.
Zeus gave a soft huff, a deep sigh that seemed to agree, his tail sweeping the ground as though sealing the promise in his own way, a silent, powerful guardian.
The silence that followed wasn't hollow anymore. It was steady. It was whole. It was alive with potential. For the first time since the disaster with the Council, I believed it—believed in Jasper, in the power of this unlikely, woven bond, and in what we could be when we stopped fighting each other and started fighting for each other.
And though I knew the storm with Gideon and the Council was racing toward us with every breath we took, a wave of dark, crushing power, I also knew this: Jasper and I would face it side by side.
Together. Always.