Chapter 14-Amrin
I didn’t remember leaving Professor Kenna’s office after she dismissed us.
One second her words were hanging heavy in the air.
You are here for a reason. Do not forget your reason.
And the next second, Sten and I were walking the corridor outside the western tower in silence.
The administrative halls of the Asgarheim Runevald Institute felt strangely abandoned at this hour.
Most graduate students were still buried in late lectures or hidden away inside study chambers while rain lashed the towering gothic windows overlooking the sea cliffs below.
The storm had returned.
Of course it had.
Runevald almost seemed to breathe with emotion sometimes.
And right now?
The realm felt restless.
Lightning flickered beyond the glass, illuminating the black stone hallways in silver flashes while enchanted lanterns floated overhead casting pools of amber light across the floor.
But none of it held my attention for long.
Not when I was with him.
Not when the air around Sten still felt charged from whatever had just happened inside Professor Kenna’s office.
He walked beside me in silence for several moments, massive body moving with unnatural grace despite his size.
Shadows curled lazily around his boots as though even darkness preferred staying close to him.
And gods—that should not have been attractive.
Yet somehow it was.
Everything about Sten should have frightened me more than it did.
The horns.
The glowing eyes.
The dangerous intensity simmering beneath his skin.
The fact Professor Kenna had practically implied he was capable of catastrophic destruction if he lost control.
But every instinct inside me still pulled toward him anyway.
Like something deep beneath logic had already made its choice.
“Are you alright?”
His voice rolled through me softly.
Concern wrapped in rough velvet.
I looked up automatically.
Big mistake.
Because Sten’s full attention hit like physical impact.
“I-I don’t know,” I admitted quietly. “I have so many questions.”
My voice sounded smaller than I intended.
Not weak.
Just overwhelmed.
And honestly?
How could I not be?
Yesterday this male had nearly beaten a Werewolf unconscious over a disgusting comment aimed at me.
Then today Professor Kenna all but confirmed he was at Runevald because his power was unstable enough to be dangerous.
And somehow—somehow none of that changed the fact I still wanted him desperately.
Wanted his mouth.
Wanted his hands.
Wanted the terrifying possessive warmth in his eyes whenever he looked at me.
Gods.
What was wrong with me?
“I imagine you do, Luna,” he murmured.
The nickname softened the edges of my spiraling thoughts instantly.
Sten slowed his stride then.
Stopped completely.
And those luminous cobalt eyes lifted fully to mine.
Pinning me in place.
I’d never been looked at the way Sten looked at me.
Never.
Not once in thirty years of living.
There was hunger in his gaze, yes.
No point pretending otherwise.
Sten looked at me like he wanted me.
Deeply.
Viscerally.
But beneath the desire was something else.
Something more dangerous.
Reverence.
Like I mattered.
Like touching me meant something.
Like I meant something.
The realization cracked through my chest with painful force.
Because all my life I’d felt like the unfinished piece in a room full of masterpieces.
Too soft.
Too emotional.
Too uncertain.
Too late blooming.
Too much in all the wrong ways.
The Cordoza women were powerful, elegant Witches with strong affinities and stronger personalities.
My sisters commanded rooms effortlessly.
My cousins excelled in spell craft, politics, and potion sciences.
And me?
I was the anxious thirty year old grad student who still didn’t know where her magic truly belonged.
The one whispered about at family gatherings.
The one people pitied when they thought she couldn’t hear.
Poor Amrin.
Still struggling.
Still searching.
Still unmated.
Still adrift.
Yet when Sten looked at me?
I didn’t feel lacking.
I felt seen.
His gaze slid slowly over my face like he was memorizing me.
Every expression.
Every emotion.
Every fractured insecure little piece I usually tried hiding from the world.
“You’re afraid,” he said quietly.
I swallowed hard.
“Yes.”
“Of me?”
The question came softer than I expected.
Not offended.
Not angry.
Careful.
And that nearly undid me all over again.
Because someone like Sten could have demanded honesty.
Could have towered over me and forced answers from my mouth through sheer intimidation alone.
Instead, he sounded almost wary.
Like my answer mattered more than he wanted it to.
“No,” I whispered truthfully.
Lightning flashed outside the windows, illuminating the sharp planes of his face in silver-white light.
Something in his expression eased instantly.
Relief.
Gods.
He looked relieved.
“I’m afraid for you,” I admitted before I could stop myself.
Sten went perfectly still.
The silence stretched between us.
Heavy.
Intimate.
Dangerous.
Then slowly—so slowly I almost missed it—his expression changed.
Not the sharp teasing amusement I’d grown used to.
Not the possessive hunger.
This was something quieter.
More vulnerable.
And somehow that frightened me far more than his anger ever could.
“Luna,” he said roughly.
Just my name.
But the way he said it—like it hurt him.
Like it cost him something just to say my name.
I stepped closer before thinking.
Before logic could interfere.
Rain hammered harder against the windows while thunder rolled across the cliffs of Asgarheim beyond the tower walls.
The entire realm felt alive around us.
Watching.
Waiting.
And maybe that should have made the moment feel ominous.
Instead, it felt strangely inevitable.
“I don’t understand what’s happening between us,” I whispered.
His jaw tightened slightly.
“Neither do I.”
That honesty surprised me.
“You don’t?”
“No.” His gaze darkened. “I only know I have spent my entire life feeling… untethered.”
The word settled strangely inside me.
Untethered.
Lonely.
Drifting.
Gods—I knew that feeling.
“And now?” I asked softly.
Something dangerous flickered behind his glowing eyes.
“Now I know where my attention goes every moment of every day.”
His voice lowered further.
“I know I cannot stop thinking about you. I know my instincts react to your fear before you even speak.”
His breathing roughened slightly.
“And I know that every time someone looks at you too long, I imagine removing their eyes.”
My pulse skipped wildly.
That should not have been hot.
It absolutely was.
Sten seemed to realize it immediately too because frustration flashed briefly across his face.
“See?” he muttered bitterly. “This is precisely what Professor Kenna fears.”
“You protecting me?”
“No.” His eyes locked onto mine again. “Me wanting you too much.”
The words hit low and hard inside my stomach.
Heat unfurled instantly between my thighs.
Because no one had ever wanted me too much before.
Most people barely wanted inconvenience.
Sten breathed obsession.
And maybe there was something deeply wrong with me because instead of running—I stepped even closer.
Close enough now that I could feel warmth radiating from his body.
Close enough to smell him.
Smoke.
Lavender.
Rain.
Magic.
The scent wrapped around me like temptation itself.
“Sten,” I whispered.
His nostrils flared slightly.
Like he could smell my reaction too.
Monster senses.
Cool.
Cool cool cool.
“You should not look at me like that right now, Luna.”
My breath caught.
“How am I looking at you?”
His gaze dropped slowly to my mouth.
“Hungry.”
Oh.
Oh no.
Heat flooded straight through me.
Because he wasn’t wrong.
I was hungry for him.
For another kiss.
For his hands.
For the impossible warmth I felt every time he looked at me like I was something precious instead of forgettable.
Thunder cracked loudly overhead.
The floating lanterns flickered.
And for one reckless terrifying moment beneath the storm-lit halls of the Asgarheim Runevald Institute—I thought he might kiss me again.
And I craved it.