Chapter Three
The forest whispers with the sounds of night.
Branches creak like old bones in the wind, and twisted pines shudder above me, their needles trembling as they loom. A thin ribbon of moonlight threads through the underbrush, guiding my steps, yet the ache in my chest slows me all the same.
Each step toward him grows heavier. Branches nip at my ankles, as though the earth itself is trying to drag me back.
Memories of his touch—of soft lips and kisses that once awakened my soul and left me aching for more—urge me forward.
But the memory of the night he changed pulls just as hard, like a twisted rope that cannot be severed.
The serum turned his love into a weapon, reshaping him into someone I didn’t recognise. A stranger. A man who still stares back at me whenever I close my eyes.
And though he insists he’s better now, his eyes betray him. They betrayed him when his temper slipped during training. When he pressed me into the ground, desire burning unchecked, something darker flickering beneath it.
I want to believe he’s still the Ryder I fell in love with.
But doubt clings to me like mist against my skin, cold and impossible to shake.
His silhouette becomes clear in the distance, leaning against a familiar tree, the same tree we once kissed upon without fear. My heart leaps for a minute and then sinks.
“There you are. I was starting to think you’d never come.”
His voice is soft when he speaks, but it still sends a shiver racing down my spine—a sensation that used to be desire, now tangled with something darker.
“Here I am.” I force a smile, keeping a careful distance between us. My arms ache to wrap around him, to pull him close and pretend nothing has changed. But his hands were once relentlessly locked around my throat. I bury the memory deep, schooling my expression as he takes a step toward me.
My body betrays me. I step back.
The silence stretches, heavy and brittle. His eyes linger on me too long, sharp and searching.
“What the fuck is going on with you, Asha?” His voice is edged with hurt now, confusion bleeding through.
“Nothing,” I say, the lie slipping out too easily. Because if he finds out that the serum still runs through his veins, there’s no telling what the thing inside him might do.
The avalanche tends to come anyway.
I shake my father’s words away; this could cause more than an avalanche, more than a hurricane.
“Don’t lie to me, Asha.” His teeth grind together as he takes another step closer. “You’ve been acting strange for weeks.”
The words hurt—not because they’re cruel, but because they’re true. I can hear the pain threaded through them, raw and unguarded.
“Is there someone else?” His gaze locks onto mine, sorrow laid bare.
“No—no,” I say quickly. “I promise, it’s nothing like that.” I exhale, the sight of him like this twisting something deep in my chest.
“Then what the fuck is it?” he snaps. “Because you’ve been spending a lot of time sneaking around with River.”
Jealousy bleeds from him, sharp and bitter.
“River and I are just friends,” I say, too fast. “You know I’d never do that to you.”
The realisation hits me a second later. “Wait. How do you even know that?” I frown. “Have you been watching me?”
Guilt flashes across his face before he looks away, jaw tightening.
“Seriously?” I scoff, disbelief prickling my skin. “And you had the nerve to call me a stalker?” The thought of his hawks circling unseen makes my stomach churn.
“I didn’t have a choice.” His body goes rigid, anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You’ve been lying to me.”
His eyes narrow, something cold and dangerous bleeding into the darkness of his irises. My knees weaken instinctively. I take another step back—
His hand snaps around my wrist, not hard but enough to make my body jerk.
“I want to know what you’re hiding from me,” he demands, and I swear I catch a flicker of purple threatening to surface.
“Ryder,” I say softly, forcing calm into my voice, “I swear there’s no one else. I love you.” I search his face, desperate to reach him. “I’ve just been tired lately.”
I pray it’s enough to smother the fire burning beneath his skin—before it’s too late.
“I’m tired too—TIRED OF YOUR LIES!”
The words explode from him. His hands clamp onto my shoulders and slam me back against the tree, bark biting into my spine. His breath is ragged, hot against my face, his nose brushing mine. Once, this closeness would have sent my body spiralling—desire lighting me up from the inside.
Now, the butterflies retreat. They fold in on themselves, sealing tight in the pit of my stomach.
“Fine,” I say, my voice steady despite the tremor in my chest. I’d thought keeping the truth from him would protect him—from himself. But all it’s done is feed the anger, and I can feel it pushing him closer to becoming that stranger again. “The reason I’ve been acting shady is that I’m afraid…”
If this wakes the beast inside him, so be it. I’m done lying. If he wants an avalanche, here it fucking comes.
“Afraid?” His grip loosens slightly. Confusion fractures his fury. “Why didn’t you just say that? You know I’d do anything to protect you.”
“No,” I say quietly. “I’m afraid of… you.”
I don’t look away. I hold his gaze, searching for the flicker of violet, the surge of something monstrous rising beneath his skin.
Nothing.
“You’re afraid of me?” His voice breaks—not with anger, but hurt.
“I think the serum still runs through your veins,” I whisper. “I’ve been trying to find a cure. River’s been helping me.”
A tear slips free as he absorbs the words. I watch the moment it hits him—sharp and sudden, like a blade driven into his chest. He turns away, and when he does, fear finally finds him.
“But I’m me,” he says, forcing the words out. “I’m not him anymore.” His lips tremble as he looks back at me, hope warring with terror.
I shake my head, even as doubt flickers. “I’ve seen it in your eyes,” I admit. “The purple glow.”
For a heartbeat, all I see is brown—warm, familiar—and it almost undoes me.
“And you didn’t think to—what, tell me?” he demands, disbelief hardening his tone. “You just wait until I run into River again!” His hands curl into fists.
“Don’t be angry at River,” I plead. “This was my choice. I made him promise not to tell you—he wanted to.” My voice cracks. “I just didn’t want you to do something stupid. I don’t want to lose you again.”
The memory flashes unbidden: glass sinking into his chest, blood blooming red as he chose my life over his own.
“I was going to tell you,” I say softly. “When I found the cure.”
I rest my hand against his chest, feeling the steady, living beat beneath my palm. He exhales deeply and gently peels my hand away.
The space between us feels wider than the forest around us.
“And what if there is no cure, Asha? What then?” His voice is thick with regret.
My vision blurs as my eyes drown in his, tears threatening to spill in an endless flood.
“If you’re right about this,” he continues softly, “you have to stay away from me.”
Moonlight catches in his lashes, turning his eyes glassy—and for the first time in weeks, the fear I’ve been carrying loosens its grip. It’s no match for the love swelling in my chest.
“I can’t hurt you again,” he says. “I love you too much to hurt you.”
He steps back—not violently, not cruelly—but with distance and silence that cut deeper than any shove.
“Ryder, wait.” I rush forward, clutching his arm before he can disappear. “Your eyes only glow when your heart rate spikes. So maybe if you keep it steady—if you don’t get angry—”
He looks at me then, really looks at me, and interrupts.
“How am I supposed to keep my heart rate steady around you,” he murmurs, voice rough, “when every time I see you, I want to rip your clothes off and fuck you until your legs shake?”
The words hit me like hot lightning. He bites his lip, squeezes his eyes shut as if trying to cage the thoughts clawing through him. Fire floods my senses. My fingers dig into his arm, want and need surging so fiercely it frightens me.
“I can’t do it, Asha,” he says hoarsely. “You have to stay away. Find me when you find a cure.”
He smiles then, small and sacrificial. I can see the war raging inside him, the pull to stay, to crush me against him and kiss me until the world falls away.
But he doesn’t.
His footsteps fade into the forest.
“We have a lead,” I call out.
They stop.
“We have a lead to the cure,” I say quickly. “A riddle. I just—I can’t figure it out.”
After a moment, he turns back. He comes to stand in front of me again, careful to keep space between us this time—like distance alone might save us both.
“A riddle?” he repeats, a flicker of hope lighting his eyes.
“Yes.” I nod, my gaze lifting to his, silently asking him to stay. “When we asked the Soldark about a cure, it gave us a riddle. We just couldn’t decipher it.”
“Maybe…” He hesitates, then meets my eyes again. “Maybe I should take a look.”
I can’t stop the small smile that tugs at my mouth.
“But what about staying away from me?” I tease softly, hope curling at the edge of my voice.
“I’ll try to keep my heart rate steady when I’m around you,” he says, exhaling slowly. “But you have to make it easy for me. Keep your distance. No touching. And”—he looks away, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip—“no tight clothes. I can’t cope.”
Heat blooms beneath my skin at the admission.
“Okay,” I say, voice steady even as my pulse betrays me. “I promise.”
My skin still tingles with the effect I have on him.
And when he’s cured—when this is over—I fully intend to jump his fucking bones.
***
We slip through the portal into my dorm room, moving quietly so as not to wake Nala. I retrieve the Soldark from its hidden place, clutching it tight before reopening the portal to the archives office.