Asa
I step through the door of my apartment as the world finally narrows to something small enough to hold. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve been back, my body finally strong enough to carry me on my own two feet. The baby is healthy. I’m healthy. We’re okay. Or we will be.
The hallway light is off. Only the low amber glow from the living room lamp spills across the floor, catching on the half-rebuilt nest in the corner.
Blankets are folded with military precision, pillows arranged like Jorak was trying to solve an equation instead of making a place for us to rest. It looks careful. Almost afraid.
He’s right behind me, one hand hovering near the small of my back without quite touching. I can feel the heat of him anyway.
“I can walk,” I say, but my voice is soft, not sharp. My legs are still shaky from the last round of tests and the long ride home.
“I know.” His reply is low, rough. He closes the door, locks it, then stands there like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands now that there are no enemies left to fight.
I toe off my shoes and head for the nest. Every step makes the soreness in my body sing, but it’s a good ache. The kind that says I survived. We both did.
Jorak follows at a careful distance. He’s been like this since the clinic discharged me, hovering, bringing water, adjusting blankets, and checking my pulse when he thinks I’m asleep. Never climbing in. Never reaching for me like he used to.
I sink into the nest and look up at him. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Standing there like you’re waiting for permission to exist in your own space.”
He exhales, a heavy sound, and finally kneels at the edge of the nest. The blankets dips under his weight. His eyes trace my face, then drop to the subtle curve of my stomach beneath the oversized sweater. His sweater.
“Asa…” His voice cracks on my name. “After everything—the distance test, the facility, the node—you’re still healing. I don’t want to take anything else from you.”
My chest tightens as I reach for him, catching his wrist and tugging until he comes closer. “Then stop taking away the one thing I actually want.”
He lets me pull him down until we’re facing each other on our sides. His hand settles on my hip, thumb stroking slow circles over fabric. I lean in and kiss him—soft at first, then deeper when he makes that quiet, broken sound in the back of his throat.
“I love you,” I whisper against his mouth. The words feel brand new, even after everything we’ve survived. “Not the Enigma. Not the Esper. You, Jorak Thorn. The man who rebuilt this nest like it was sacred. The man who’s been terrified to touch me since everything happened.”
His breath hitches. He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, eyes closed.
“I love you too. Fuck, Asa… I’ve never said that to anyone.
Never felt anything close to this.” His voice drops to a rasp.
“I’m scared that if I let myself have you the way I want to, I’ll be too much again. ”
“You’re not too much.” I slide my hand under his shirt, feeling the warm, solid plane of his stomach, the faint tremor running through him. “You’re mine. And I’m choosing this. Right now. No heat. No crisis. Just us.”
He kisses me like he’s drowning and I’m air.
Slow, reverent, almost worshipful. His hands map my body with aching care, sliding under the sweater, tracing every bruise and mark from the past weeks like he’s memorizing them for a different reason now.
When he palms my stomach, the touch is so gentle it makes my eyes sting.
Clothes disappear between kisses and quiet breaths. He peels the sweater off me like it’s something precious, then his own shirt follows. I run my palms over the broad planes of his chest, feeling the steady thunder of his heart.
Jorak shifts us carefully until I’m on my back, cradled in the nest. He settles between my thighs, his weight a welcome pressure.
His mouth finds my neck again, licking over my scent gland until I’m arching and panting softly beneath him, slick gathering between my thighs.
One of his hands strokes down my side, over my hip, then slips between us as he works me open with patient, gentle thrusts of two fingers, then three, curling just right until I’m moaning his name.
“Talk to me, baby,” he murmurs, voice low and rough as he crooks his fingers again. “Tell me how it feels.”
“So good,” I gasp, hips rolling into his hand. “Eni… I need you. Please.”
He kisses me deeply as he withdraws his fingers and lines himself up. When he pushes inside me it’s on one long, slow glide. He’s thick and hot and perfect, stretching me open in that way that still steals my breath.
“Fuck, Asa,” he breathes against my lips, staying still once he’s fully seated. “You feel like heaven. So tight… so warm around me. Are you okay?”
“I’m perfect,” I whisper, cupping his face. “Move, Eni. I want to feel all of you.”
He starts to thrust with deep, rolling strokes that drag against every sensitive spot inside me. Each movement is deliberate, loving. His hand stays on my stomach the whole time, protective and tender.
“I love you,” he murmurs between thrusts, voice breaking. “I love you so much. Every time I look at you I can’t believe you’re real… that you chose me.”
Tears prick my eyes. I wrap my legs tighter around his waist and pull him closer. “I love you too. You’re not a weapon to me. You’re my home. You’re everything I never knew I needed.”
His rhythm deepens slightly, still gentle but more intense. The drag of his cock inside me, the stretch, the way he fills me completely, it’s overwhelming in the best way. I moan softly with every thrust, my hands sliding over his back, feeling the muscles shift under my palms.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he rasps, forehead pressed to mine so we never lose eye contact. “Taking me so well. My mate. My Anchor. Mine.”
“Yours,” I echo, gasping as he angles just right and hits that spot again. “Always yours, Jorak. Don’t stop—please don’t stop.”
“I won’t. I’ve got you, baby. I’ve always got you.” His voice is wrecked with emotion. He kisses me again, matching the pace of his hips. “I never thought I could have this. Someone who sees all of me and still stays.”
“You’re not too much,” I breathe between moans. “You’re exactly what I want. Exactly who I love.”
When his knot begins to swell I whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. The knot pops into place, stretching me full, and the pressure against that perfect spot sends me over with a soft, shattered cry. Pleasure rolls through me in long, devastating waves as I pulse around him.
I cup his face, my thumbs brushing his cheekbones. “Make me yours,” I whisper. “Not because the blood match says so. Not because the city needed us. Because I’m asking. Bite me, Eni. Bond with me for real.”
He stills. For a second I think he might pull away. Then something raw and beautiful breaks across his face. “Are you sure?” His voice is wrecked. “This isn’t something we can undo.”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
He kisses me deeply, then drops his mouth to my neck. I feel his teeth graze the scent gland, hesitating one final heartbeat. I tilt my head further, offering up myself fully.
His teeth sink into my skin, and then the bond snaps into place like the last piece of an equation I’ve been solving my whole life. Warmth floods through me, nothing like the desperate pull of the old tether. It feels like home. Like safety. Like forever.
Jorak licks over the fresh mark, soothing it, then rests his forehead against mine again. His knot is still locked inside me, keeping us joined. “God, that feels like perfection, Asa. I should have done it sooner.”
I manage a small laugh, tears slipping down my temples as the new bond settles warm and quiet under my skin. “I agree. Now stay right here. We’re not moving for a long time.”
He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through both of us, and curls around me as much as the knot allows. The nest finally smells like us again, no clinical edges, no fear. Just cedar and vanilla and the quiet certainty of choice.
For the first time since this all began, I’m not saving him and he’s not saving me.
We’re just loving each other.