Chapter 37
The palace hums with urgency. Messengers rush past carrying sealed scrolls, warriors clad in gleaming armour make their way to the barracks, and the murmur of strategy meetings drifts through the air. Every hall, every chamber, pulses with the weight of preparation.
Aerwyna is on the brink of war. And I’m supposed to lead them.
I stand by the wide windows of the war chamber – god, I hate that name – watching the city below. The training grounds are alive with movement, soldiers drilling in disciplined formations, their swords flashing under the pale sunlight. Beyond them, the city fortifies itself. Blacksmiths hammer out weapons, healers prepare stores of supplies, families board up their homes. Every person is playing their part. Yet, the weight of it all feels suffocating.
“We’re making progress,” Vance says, stepping up beside me. His tone is calm, measured, but the tension in his shoulders betrays him.
I force a smile. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”
“It never does,” he replies softly. “But you’re doing everything you can, Malia. And that’s more than anyone else could manage.”
I nod, but the unease lingers. “I just hope it’s enough.”
Later that day, the council chamber is packed with representatives from every faction in Aerwyna – warriors, mages, healers, and even a delegation from the outerbanks, their leader standing tall and stoic, with his coral helm glinting in the firelight – have gathered. This kind of unity hasn’t been seen in centuries. And it feels fragile.
There is so much more to this realm than I’ve had a chance to learn, and now I just hope I get the chance.
“This is unprecedented,” Elder Ayomide states, his voice carrying over the murmurs. “Aerwyna’s factions standing together like this – it hasn’t happened in generations.”
“It’s not enough to simply stand together,” I say, stepping forward. “We need to fight together, plan together. The Shadow Legion won’t hesitate to exploit any cracks in our unity.”
Silence follows. Eyes flick to me, some doubtful, others cautious, waiting for a reason to believe in this alliance.
“You have my clan’s support,” the outerbanks leader says finally, his deep voice breaking the silence. “But only if the mages agree to share their protective wards with our borders.”
The mages shift, protests rising, but Vance speaks before they can object. “We’ll make it work. Whatever it takes, we’ll ensure every faction is protected.”
His certainty is a steadying force. One by one, the representatives voice their agreements. The fractures begin to mend.
The days blur into a relentless rhythm of war councils, training, and strategy, but in the chaos, I cling to the quiet moments with the people who matter most.
The crackling fire is the only sound in the room, as I sit with the ancient texts, my mind clouded with thoughts that refuse to settle. The words blur, but not because of the strain – they blur because I can’t focus on anything but Reef. He’s been here with me through everything, his presence like a quiet hum beneath my skin, even when he’s not touching me. And now... now I can feel the weight of it all, the distance we’ve kept.
The door creaks open behind me, and I don’t need to look to know it’s him. His scent is the first thing that hits me – earthy and wild, tinged with the hint of salt from his training. I feel his eyes on me before he speaks, a silent pressure, steady and unrelenting. His presence fills the space, thick and heavy, as if it’s finally time to close the distance.
“You should be resting,” his voice rumbles, low and hushed, like it’s a command wrapped in concern. There’s that edge to his tone, the one that betrays just how much he’s held back, just how tightly he’s been clinging to control.
I glance up, meeting his gaze. His bright green eyes are darkened, burning with a hunger I’ve seen before. It’s the same hunger that’s been lurking between us for so long, the one that I’ve felt every time our paths crossed, but that he’s buried beneath layers of patience and restraint. His dark hair falls over his forehead, his tattoos winding down his arms like silent promises, but it’s his gaze that’s got me locked in place.
“I’m fine,” I manage, though the words feel like a lie the moment they leave my lips. I’m anything but fine. The truth is, my body is screaming for him, for the touch that I’ve been denying myself just as much as he’s denied it. “I just need to finish this.”
But he doesn’t wait. His footsteps are quiet, determined, and before I can protest, he’s right next to me. His large hand covers mine, stilling it, and I don’t pull away. I can’t. His skin is warm against mine, his pulse thrumming beneath the surface, and I know he can feel mine – racing, frantic.
“You’re lying,” he murmurs, his voice thick with something darker now, something I’ve heard in his voice before but never in this context. “You haven’t been fine, Malia. Not since you came back.”
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to breathe. He’s right. I’ve never felt further from fine than I do in this moment, standing on the edge of something that’s been waiting to consume me. Waiting for us both.
Reef doesn’t give me a chance to answer. He pulls me to my feet, the movement sharp, possessive, and I collide with his chest. My breath hitches at the feeling of him, the steady beat of his heart against mine, the undeniable heat radiating from his body. He doesn’t wait for me to say anything else. His lips crash down on mine in a kiss that is anything but gentle – urgent, desperate, primal.
His mouth moves against mine with a fierceness I haven’t felt in far too long, and I respond, hungry for him, for the closeness we’ve been starved of. His hands are everywhere – on my hips, my back, pulling me closer, as though he’s afraid I’ll slip away if he doesn’t keep me anchored to him. His touch is possessive, but it’s also tender, as if he’s trying to make up for all the time he’s spent holding himself back.
When he pulls away, just enough to look me in the eyes, I can see the war raging in his. His lips are bruised from kissing me, his jaw clenched in restraint, but it’s his eyes – the wildness in them – that betrays him. He’s been holding back for too long.
“I can’t keep doing this,” he growls, his voice raw. “I’ve let you heal, Malia. I’ve let you take all the space you needed...but now it’s time to stop pretending like I’m not fucking falling apart because of you.”
Before I can even process his words, he’s lifting me effortlessly, pressing me against the nearby bookshelf with a force that knocks the breath from my lungs. His body is pressed against mine, solid and unyielding, as his hands move to the buttons of my shirt. The sound of each one coming undone is like a snap, and I know it’s not just the buttons he’s undoing – he’s unraveling everything we’ve built up to this moment.
I reach for him, desperate to feel his skin against mine. His chest is just as hard as I remember, his tattoos like the mark of a god I’ve spent too long resisting. But no more. No more waiting, no more distance.
His lips move down my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as his hands explore my body with an urgency that matches the pounding of my heart. He’s losing himself in me, and I can feel the same thing happening to me. We’re both burning alive, and I don’t know if I’m ready to be consumed, but I don’t care.
“I need you, Reef,” I whisper, the words raw and desperate. “Now.”
He groans, low and guttural, the sound vibrating through his chest. “I’m right here, Malia. Always have been.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to protest before lifting me again, his hands gripping me tighter. I can feel the raw power in him, as if every inch of his body is made to claim me. He carries me toward the desk, shoving everything aside with a force that leaves no room for hesitation, no space between us. The kiss comes fast and fierce, his lips crashing into mine, his body pressing against me with an intensity that pulls the air from my lungs. It’s not just sex; it’s everything – everything we’ve held back, everything we’ve denied.
His hands are everywhere, his touch urgent, fevered. He undresses me with a frantic need, as though he’s afraid I’ll slip through his fingers if he hesitates even a second. The moment he’s inside me with one urgent, hard thrust, I gasp. The sensation of being filled, of being whole again, surges through me like an electric shock. I meet him, matching his rhythm, feeling the pull of desire deepen with every thrust. It’s frantic, relentless – like he’s afraid of losing me again, and I’m just as afraid of losing him.
I grip him tighter, urging him to go deeper, to tear down every barrier we’ve kept between us. And he does. With a guttural growl, his pace quickens, his hold on me tightening until it’s almost painful, and I can feel the tremor in my body, the burn of need that’s been simmering under the surface for too long. The way he moves inside me, the urgency of his touch – it’s like we’re both drowning, both struggling to stay afloat in the wave of sensation, of connection.
Reef doesn’t stop. Not until we’re both gasping for breath, our bodies entangled, our hearts finally beating in sync.
My body responds to him, every nerve alight with desire. I can feel myself unraveling, each breath coming harder, faster, as the pressure inside me builds. His name falls from my lips, a desperate plea, and that’s when it snaps – his rhythm breaks free, and I come undone beneath him.
My body trembles with the force of it, and he follows me, his own release shuddering through him. We collapse together, tangled and breathless, my chest heaving against his.
Reef pulls me close, his arms wrapping around me like he never wants to let go. His forehead rests against mine, his breath ragged, as his fingers trace idle patterns along my skin. “I’m not letting you go, Malia,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “Not now, not ever.”
I know that he means it. And I never want him to.
The clang of metal against metal echoes through the training grounds as I approach. Bhodi is in the centre of the ring, sparring with a group of soldiers. His movements are sharp and precise, every strike purposeful, fluid in a way that makes it look effortless. But I know better. There’s a controlled power in the way he moves, each shift of his body calculated, every strike landing exactly where he intends it to – never wasted, never wild. And yet, even as he moves, there’s an ease to him, a confidence that borders on cocky. He’s holding back, I realise, just enough to let the others keep up.
“Still showing off?” I call out, leaning against the railing.
Bhodi grins, twisting out of the way of an incoming strike and delivering a swift knock to his opponent’s weapon, sending it clattering to the ground. The soldier stumbles back, panting, and Bhodi gives him a nod before turning his attention to me. His chest rises and falls heavily, as he swipes a hand over his sweat-dampened brow.
“Always.” His grin is bright, teasing, and something about it tugs at the corners of my own lips before I can stop it.
I laugh, the sound is unexpected even to me. It feels strange – light and unfamiliar. A reminder that there’s still room for something other than the weight pressing down on me.
Bhodi jogs over, grabbing a towel from the bench and draping it over his shoulder. His eyes flick over me, assessing in that quiet way of his, but he doesn’t push. “What brings you here, then? Looking for tips?”
“Hardly.” I cross my arms, arching a brow. “I just needed some fresh air. And maybe some entertainment.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” he says easily, shaking out his shoulders. “Though I’d have thought you’d be more impressed.”
“Oh, I’m impressed.” I let my gaze drag over him in mock consideration. “Just not with the fighting.”
He smirks. “Is that so? And here I thought my footwork was impeccable.”
“It is,” I admit. “For a show-off.”
Bhodi laughs, the sound rich, as he steps closer, the scent of sweat and steel clinging to him. There’s a flicker of something softer in his gaze, something searching. “How are you holding up?”
The lightness in my chest tightens, and I shift my weight. “I’m managing,” I say, though even to my own ears, it doesn’t sound entirely convincing. “I feel like my magic is getting stronger every day.”
Bhodi nods, like he expected as much. He doesn’t call me out on it, but he doesn’t let it slide either. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Malia.” His voice is quieter now, laced with something unshakable. “It’s okay to admit you’re scared.”
I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. “I know.” I hesitate, then sigh. “But if I let myself feel it too much, I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep going.”
His jaw tics, and he shifts a fraction closer. “You will,” he says, certainty woven into every syllable. “Because that’s who you are. And because you’ve got all of us backing you up.”
His words settle something inside me, a knot loosening, if only slightly. I meet his gaze, offering him a small smile. “Thank you, Bhodi.”
“Anytime.” His grin returns, boyish and wicked. “Now, about those tips…”
I scoff. “Oh, please, I could take you down in under a minute.”
His brows lift, amused. “Bold claim, little goddess.”
“Not a claim.” I smirk. “A fact.”
Bhodi moves fast – too fast for me to react, before he’s crowding into my space, one arm bracing against the railing behind me. His body radiates heat, his breath still uneven from sparring. “Then prove it.”
I tilt my chin up. “What, right here?”
His grin turns wolfish. “Scared?”
“Never.”
I move first, reaching to shove him back, but he anticipates it, catching my wrist mid-air. In the same breath, he shifts, using my own momentum to spin me, pressing my back against the railing. The movement is seamless, practiced. His grip is firm but not unkind, the warmth of his fingers wrapping around mine.
“Like I said,” he murmurs, eyes gleaming with challenge, “impeccable footwork.”
Heat rises beneath my skin, something sharp and electric curling low in my stomach. I should shove him away. I should call him on his arrogance.
Instead, I let the tension stretch between us, taut and thrilling, until the breath between us feels thin.
His gaze flickers to my mouth. A single moment of hesitation. And then he kisses me.
It’s not careful or questioning – it’s fire and heat and hunger, a claim and a challenge all in one. He tastes like salt and steel, the force of it pressing me deeper against the railing. His hands come to my waist, pulling me closer, and I gasp against him, my fingers curling into his damp shirt.
The world tilts, but I don’t care.
Right now, there’s only Bhodi.
He groans into the kiss, the sound vibrating through me, sinking into my bones. His hands tighten on my waist, fingers digging in like he’s anchoring himself, like he’s afraid I’ll slip through his grasp. There’s no hesitation in the way he kisses me, no second-guessing. It’s raw, unfiltered hunger – like he’s been waiting for this, holding himself back, and now that I’ve let him in, he’s done pretending he doesn’t want more.
His mouth moves over mine, claiming, consuming. He parts my lips with a deep stroke of his tongue, coaxing, demanding, and I meet him just as fiercely, drinking him in. The taste of him – salt and steel, something distinctly Bhodi – floods my senses, and I swear I feel it everywhere, in every inch of my body. My fingers curl into his shirt, gripping the damp fabric as if I can pull him even closer, as if I can fuse us together through sheer will.
But it’s not enough.
I arch into him, pressing against the hard lines of his body, and he groans again, the sound rough, primal. His hands shift, one sliding up my spine, fingers teasing over the back of my neck before tangling in my hair. The other drags down, slipping over my hip, curving around my thigh before gripping behind my knee. In one swift motion, he lifts me slightly, pressing me fully against the railing, pinning me between the solid wood and the heat of his body.
My breath catches. His lips leave mine, only to trail a searing path down my jaw, over the sensitive skin of my throat. He lingers there, his breath hot, his teeth scraping just enough to make me shiver. My pulse is thundering, racing beneath his mouth, and he feels it – hears it – because his grip tightens, his fingers digging into my thigh.
“I’ve thought about this,” he murmurs, voice thick, rough, as his lips brush just below my ear. “About you.”
I suck in a breath, my fingers flexing against his shoulders. “Have you?”
He huffs a laugh against my skin, the sound dark, strained. “You have no idea.”
He kisses me again, harder this time, like he needs me to understand, like he needs to prove it to me. And I do – I feel it in the way his body trembles against mine, in the way he grips me like he’ll never let go.
I shift, rolling my hips against him, testing, teasing, and he lets out a sharp breath, his head dropping to my shoulder. His fingers flex against my thigh, his entire body taut with restraint.
“Don’t start something you’re not ready to finish, Malia,” he warns, his voice rough with need.
I grin, though my own breath is uneven. “Who says I’m not ready?”
His head lifts, green eyes burning as they lock onto mine. For a long moment, he just looks at me, searching, warring with something inside himself. And then, just when I think he’s about to step back, about to pull away?—
Bhodi growls, low and deep, a sound that rumbles through his chest and into mine, like a warning I have no intention of heeding. His grip tightens, and before I can react, he shifts, lifting me fully against the railing. My legs instinctively wrap around his waist, locking us together, and fuck , the sheer strength of him, the raw power in the way he holds me, makes my head spin.
His mouth is back on mine in an instant, hot and consuming, stealing every breath, every thought, until all that’s left is him . His hands slide down, gripping my thighs, his thumbs pressing into the sensitive skin just beneath the curve of my hips. He rolls his own against me in a slow, deliberate grind, and I swear I feel it everywhere, heat sparking along every nerve.
I whimper against his lips, my body arching into his, seeking more, needing more, and that’s all it takes. His restraint, already hanging by a thread, snaps completely.
Bhodi’s hands move, one gripping my hip to hold me in place, the other trailing up, slipping beneath my shirt, skimming over my stomach, then higher, his touch possessive. His mouth leaves mine, only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck, his teeth scraping, biting, soothing with his tongue in a way that leaves me gasping.
“You drive me fucking insane,” he rasps against my skin. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been? Watching you. Waiting. Holding back.”
“What about the shower?” I ask, smirking.
He shakes his head, deadly serious. “Not enough, Mai-Tai. I’ll never get enough of you.”
I shudder, my nails digging into his shoulders.
Something dark flashes in his eyes, something wild, and then he snaps .
“Everybody out.”
The few remaining soldiers who hadn’t already taken the hint, scarper. Bhodi impatiently waits until we’re alone and then grips the fabric of my shirt and yanks it over my head in one swift motion, tossing it aside like it’s an afterthought.
His gaze rakes over me, devouring, lingering on the lace of my bra before he grabs the material and pulls it down so that my breasts spring free. He caresses my nipples into stiff peaks, then slides his hands beneath me, lifting me just enough so that his mouth can replace his hands.
I moan as his lips close over me, heat searing straight through me, melting every last bit of control I have left. He sucks, licks, his tongue flicking over my hardened nipple, and my hips roll against him of their own accord, desperate for any friction.
“Bhodi—”
He growls again, his fingers digging into my thighs as he presses me harder against the railing, like he needs me to feel him, to know exactly how much he wants me. His mouth leaves my breast, trailing lower, his teeth grazing over my ribs, my stomach, until he’s at the waistband of my leggings.
His eyes flick up to mine, blazing, dark with intent. “Tell me to stop.”
I shake my head, breathless, body trembling. “I won’t.”
Bhodi’s lips curl into a wicked smirk. “Good.”
And then he drops to his knees before me.
The gardens are quiet, the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze the only sound as I walk among the flowers. The vibrant colours and heady scents should be soothing, but my mind is too restless.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Cove’s voice breaks the silence, and I turn to see him leaning against a tree, his arms crossed and his trademark grin firmly in place.
“I’ve been busy,” I reply, though we both know it’s a weak excuse.
He pushes off the tree and walks over to me, his grin softening into something more sincere. “You know, you’re allowed to feel scared. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”
“I don’t feel strong,” I admit, considering how his words are similar to my earlier conversation with Bhodi.
“That’s because you’ve been carrying too much on your own,” he says, his hand brushing against mine. “Let us share the load, Malia. That’s what we’re here for.”
I look up at him, his blue eyes filled with an earnestness that makes my chest ache. “Thank you, Cove.”
“Always,” he says softly, his thumb brushing lightly over my knuckles.
Cove squeezes my hand, then tugs me gently forward. “Come with me.”
I hesitate for only a second before nodding, letting him lead me through the winding paths of the garden. The scent of night-blooming jasmine lingers in the air, mingling with the crispness of the evening. His grip on my hand is warm and grounding.
We walk in comfortable silence until we reach a clearing. The trees part to reveal a stretch of open sky, the stars burning bright above us. In the centre of the clearing, a blanket is spread across the grass, a bottle of juice and two glasses resting beside it.
I arch a brow. “Did you plan this?”
Cove grins, that lazy, easy charm lighting up his face. “I had a feeling you might need a distraction.”
I exhale a quiet laugh as he tugs me down onto the blanket with him. The grass is cool beneath us, but his body is warm where our shoulders brush. He hands me a glass of juice, and I take a sip, the rich flavour rolling over my tongue.
For a moment, we just sit there, staring up at the sky. The stars stretch endlessly above us, vast and untouchable, their light older than anything I can comprehend. I should feel small beneath them, but with Cove beside me, I don’t.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur.
Cove shifts closer, his voice softer now. “It is.”
I turn my head to find him already watching me, his blue eyes reflecting the constellations above. My breath catches.
“Tell me what you see,” he says, his gaze never leaving mine.
I look up again, letting my eyes trace the familiar patterns. “Orion’s Belt. The Pleiades. Cassiopeia.”
He hums, thoughtful. “Did you know the Pleiades are also called the Seven Sisters?”
I nod. “They were nymphs in Greek mythology. Zeus turned them into stars to protect them.”
His lips twitch. “Sounds like something I’d do.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. “Of course you’d compare yourself to Zeus.”
He chuckles, the sound warm and low. “I’m just saying, I’d put you in the stars if I could. Keep you safe for all eternity.”
Something about the way he says it – so effortlessly, like it’s a simple truth – makes my heart stutter.
I turn back to him, and suddenly, the space between us feels too small, the air too charged. His fingers brush over mine, slow and deliberate, and then he’s lifting my hand, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.
I shiver.
“Cove—”
His free hand moves to my cheek, his touch featherlight, as if giving me the chance to pull away. I don’t.
His lips graze mine, a whisper of a kiss, testing, waiting. But I don’t want gentle, not tonight.
I fist my hand in his shirt and pull him in, and then he kisses me properly – deep and unhurried, like we have all the time in the world. Like he wants to memorise me.
His tongue sweeps against mine, coaxing, teasing, and I melt into him, my fingers sliding into his hair. He groans softly, tilting me back against the blanket, his body half over mine, his warmth seeping into me.
The stars burn above us, but right now, the only thing I can feel is him.
As Cove deepens the kiss, I feel something inside me loosen, unravel, like a knot I hadn’t realised was choking me. It’s not just the way he touches me – it’s the way he sees me, how he always seems to know what I need before I do. He always has.
I didn’t realise how much I’d been missing this. How much I’d been missing him .
I remember the last time we made out on the beach beneath a meteor shower, the sky alive with falling stars. I can easily recall the way he traced the lines of my face with his fingertips, how he whispered that I was more breathtaking than the night sky. I’d felt untouchable then, wrapped in something rare and infinite.
But since then, so much has changed. Not Cove though, he’s always been my constant. My guiding light. My North Star.
I’ve been fighting, breaking, rebuilding, carrying the weight of everything on my shoulders. I’d convinced myself I had to bear it alone, but of course I don’t. They’ve more than proved they’re here to support me. But here, now, with Cove’s lips against mine, his body warm and solid above me, I realise how wrong I was.
I need this.
Not just the kiss, not just the heat between us, but him. His steadiness. His quiet understanding. The way he’s always there, even when I don’t ask him to be.
I break the kiss just enough to rest my forehead against his, my breath shaky. “I didn’t know how much I needed this.”
Cove cups my cheek, his thumb brushing over my skin. His blue eyes search mine, soft and knowing. “I did.”
A lump rises in my throat. He’s always known. Always understood me in ways I struggle to understand myself.
I exhale a quiet laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer. “You’re insufferable.”
His grin is quick and teasing. “And yet, you keep kissing me.”
I shake my head, but he swallows my retort with another kiss, this one slower, deeper, filled with everything I don’t have the words to say. And for tonight – for this moment under the stars – that’s enough.
Tonight the air is crisp, carrying the scent of the salty ocean. While last night was balmy, almost heady when Cove and I enjoyed our picnic, tonight is cooler. Vance walks beside me, his presence as steady and grounding as ever. The palace grounds stretch out around us, lanterns casting a warm golden glow, but it’s the darkness beyond that draws us in.
“Where are we going?” I ask, glancing at him.
His lips curve into a soft smirk. “Somewhere quiet.”
I arch a brow. “That’s not ominous at all.”
He chuckles, shaking his head as he leads me down a narrow garden path. The sound of the ocean grows louder, waves crashing against the cliffs below, and the cool breeze stirs my hair. “You’ll like it. Trust me.”
I do. Even after everything, I do .
The path opens up to a secluded terrace carved into the cliffside. A single table is set for two beneath the stars, the flickering glow of a few enchanted lanterns casting golden light over plates of fresh fruit, honey-drizzled pastries, and a chilled bottle of juice. It’s simple, unpretentious – but unmistakably him .
Warmth spreads through my chest. “You planned this?”
Vance leans against the stone railing, watching me closely. “We never got to finish our last date.”
The words hit me harder than I expected. I swallow, remembering. The other world. The quiet moments stolen between battles, between uncertainty and impossible choices. The way we’d lain beneath an unfamiliar sky, tracing constellations with our fingertips, whispering about a future we weren’t sure we’d get to have.
I exhale softly. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember.”
His gaze darkens, his expression softening. “I remember everything about you.”
My fingers graze the edge of the table, my throat suddenly tight. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”
“It was.” He steps closer, the warmth of him chasing away the chill in the air. “But not everything has to stay in the past.”
His words wrap around me, gentle yet unshakable, and I realise how much I missed this. Not just Vance, but us . The quiet intimacy. The way he’s always understood me, even when I couldn’t understand myself.
I look up at him, at the way the lanterns cast golden light across his sharp cheekbones, the deep blue of his eyes dark and endless in the night. “Vance…”
He reaches for me, his fingers brushing my wrist, his touch careful, reverent. “I know things are different now. But that doesn’t change what we had – what we have .”
I don’t realise I’m trembling until he pulls me in, his arms strong and unyielding. I press my forehead against his chest, breathing him in, letting the warmth of him seep into my bones.
“We never really got to just be ,” I murmur. “Not then. Not now.”
Vance tilts my chin up, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw. “Then let’s start now.”
I don’t hesitate. I lift onto my toes, closing the space between us. His lips meet mine in a kiss that’s slow and lingering, tasting of longing and memories and something deeper – something unshaken by time or distance.
His hands slide up my back, steady and sure, pulling me closer as he deepens the kiss. I melt against him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. It’s not urgent, not desperate. It’s steady, patient. A promise that even after everything, we are still here .
When we finally part, his forehead rests against mine, his breath warm against my lips.
“I missed you,” I whisper.
His grip tightens around me, his voice rough with emotion. “You have no idea.”
The words hang between us, thick with meaning, with all the moments unsaid, the time we lost. I look up into his eyes, where the shadows of the past still linger, but are softened by something else – something warmer, something real .
He brushes his thumb over my lips, as if committing the feel of me to memory, and I wonder if he’s trying to capture every fleeting second. I know I am.
Vance leans in, his lips ghosting over my temple, sending a shiver down my spine. “We both needed this, Malia. To remember what we were, what we could be.”
His words linger in the air, and I close my eyes, absorbing them, letting the warmth of his presence settle into my heart. Everything about him is familiar, grounding, and in this moment, I realise just how much I’ve craved this. Craved him .
I pull back slightly, looking at the quiet, starlit world around us. “I was so focused on what was ahead, I forgot to live for the moments we already have.”
Vance’s lips curve into a smile, his gaze tender. “It’s easy to forget, when you’ve been carrying the weight of a thousand things.”
I reach up, brushing my fingers through the dark waves of his hair, a silent gesture that speaks volumes. I feel the years of connection between us, the unspoken bond that never fully broke, no matter what worlds or lives we found ourselves in.
“You’re right,” I whisper, my voice almost lost in the wind. “And I don’t want to be alone anymore. Not with you.”
He captures my wrist, pulling me close once more, his lips brushing against my forehead in a soft kiss, like he’s sealing the promise of all the unspoken things.
“I’m right here, Malia,” he murmurs. “And I’ll be here for as long as you’ll let me.”
The weight of his words settles in my chest, a comforting weight, like an anchor in the storm of everything I’ve faced. It’s not about what’s ahead anymore – it’s about what’s now , in this moment, with him.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his expression soft but with that familiar spark in his eyes. “You want to stay here a little longer?”
I nod, my hand slipping into his. “I’d like that.”
And so we stand there, together, beneath the stars. Time feels like it’s stretched out, allowing us this peace, this moment where everything else fades away, and it’s just us . No expectations, no past or future to worry about. Just a connection that runs deeper than I ever allowed myself to admit.
He laces his fingers through mine, and without another word, we settle into the quiet night, content in each other’s presence. It’s not perfect, and there’s still so much to figure out, but for the first time in a long time, it feels like we have all the time in the world.
The moment stretches between us, the quiet world around us fading into the background as I look into Vance’s eyes, where so many emotions swirl – things we’ve both buried, things we’ve both hesitated to admit. He looks at me like he’s waiting for me to say something, but I know that silence can speak louder than words sometimes.
I squeeze his hand, my thumb tracing the faint lines of his palm. “I’m not sure how we got here, or how we’re going to keep going forward…but I know one thing.”
His brow furrows, his expression both curious and tender. “What’s that?”
I meet his gaze, feeling the weight of everything – our past, our separation, and the unspoken things between us. The love that’s never really gone, only hidden, waiting for the right moment to resurface.
“I love you, Vance,” I say quietly, but it feels like a declaration, like the universe itself holds its breath with me. “I’ve always loved you.”
His breath catches, and for a moment, I’m unsure whether he’ll say anything or just pull me into him. But then he does both.
His arms wrap around me, pulling me close as he presses his forehead to mine. “I’ve always loved you too, Malia. I never stopped.”
The words hit me like a wave, all the tension that had built up in me from the past few days suddenly washing away. His love, his admission, fills the cracks in my heart that I didn’t even know were there.
“I thought I had to let go,” I admit, my voice shaking slightly. “That I had to forget to keep moving forward.”
He lifts his head, cupping my face in his hands, and his eyes are soft but full of conviction. “You don’t have to let go, Malia. We don’t have to forget. We just have to remember where we’ve come from, and build something new from there.”
I smile, the weight of his words settling into my chest like a soothing balm. “I don’t want to let go anymore.”
“Then don’t,” he murmurs, his lips brushing mine in the most tender kiss I’ve ever known. It’s not urgent or filled with desperation. It’s the kiss of someone who’s been waiting for this moment, for this truth to be laid bare.
When we finally pull away, my chest feels full in a way I haven’t felt in so long. I close my eyes, resting my forehead against his. “I love you, Vance,” I whisper again, almost as if saying it once wasn’t enough.
“I love you too, Malia. More than you’ll ever know.”
And in that moment, under the stars and in the silence of the night, I realise that love is never about perfect timing or the absence of fear. It’s about the quiet moments, the ones where you hold each other, and let everything else fall away. It’s the steady presence, the shared understanding. And in that, I finally feel whole.