Chapter 15-Sten
The doors to Professor Kenna’s office shut behind me with a low, resonant thud that seemed to echo straight through my skull.
Do not forget your reason.
The older Witch’s words clung to me like smoke as I strode down the western tower corridor, boots striking hard against ancient stone.
Storm light flashed through the towering windows overlooking the cliffs of Asgarheim, silver-white against black seas and jagged rocks far below.
Rain lashed the glass in violent waves while thunder rolled across the realm like the growl of some slumbering god.
Fitting.
Because there was a storm inside me too.
I dragged one hand through my hair roughly, claws scraping briefly against my scalp as frustration tightened every muscle in my body.
You are here for a reason.
I knew why I’d come to Runevald.
Control.
Discipline.
Containment.
Every descendant of Máni inherited power tied directly to emotional equilibrium, but mine had always been worse.
Stronger.
Wilder.
More unstable.
Lunar magic responded to emotion, desire, instinct, obsession. And I had spent most of my life trying to carve those things out of myself before they destroyed me.
That was the entire point of the Asgarheim Runevald Institute.
To master what I was before what I was mastered me.
And for a while, I thought I’d succeeded.
I kept to myself.
Avoided attachments.
Buried desire beneath routine and discipline and endless nights spent studying celestial charts until dawn bled silver across the skies of Asgarheim.
Then Amrin Cordoza walked into my life wearing oversized sweaters and sadness in her eyes.
And suddenly none of my carefully constructed restraint meant a fucking thing anymore.
I stopped near one of the arched windows overlooking the lower courtyards.
The storm had driven most students indoors, leaving the black stone paths slick with rain and illuminated by floating rune lanterns that swayed in the wind.
Somewhere below, I could hear laughter drifting faintly through the weather.
Life continuing.
Normal.
Meanwhile I was standing in the middle of a gothic tower trying not to come apart because a curvy little Witch smiled at me.
Pathetic.
I laughed once under my breath, the sound rough and humorless.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
Because Professor Kenna was wrong about one thing.
Amrin wasn’t distracting me from my reason for being here.
She was the reason now.
I had simply been too much of a coward to admit it aloud.
The realization settled into my bones with terrifying certainty.
Every second in her presence only made the feeling worse.
Stronger.
More inevitable.
I wanted her more every day.
Not less.
Not in some passing lustful way either.
No.
This was slower.
Deeper.
More dangerous.
I wanted her laughter in my rooms.
Wanted her soft body curled against mine while storms battered the cliffs outside.
Wanted to hear her ramble about books and spells and strange Earth documentaries while I pretended not to hang on every word.
Wanted to touch every inch of her until she stopped doubting that anyone could ever truly desire her.
Gods.
My chest tightened painfully.
Because how had no one seen her before?
How had the world managed to overlook someone like Amrin?
She moved through Runevald quietly, almost apologetically, like she genuinely believed she took up too much space.
Meanwhile every instinct I possessed screamed that she deserved to be worshipped for existing.
That beautiful mind.
Those pale lunar eyes full of too much empathy for this brutal fucking multiverse.
Her kindness.
Gods, her kindness was what truly ruined me.
Amrin cared about people even after the world had spent years making her feel small.
Even after her family convinced her she was lacking somehow.
Even after loneliness carved insecurity into her bones.
She still looked at others gently.
Still tried to understand people.
Still offered warmth so freely it bordered on self-sacrifice.
And me?
I was a celestial Monster with anger problems and enough instability to earn a personal warning from the most powerful Witch at Runevald.
Not exactly ideal mate material.
The word hit me hard enough to make me close my eyes briefly.
Mate.
Dangerous thought.
Forbidden thought.
But it was becoming harder to deny every passing hour.
The stars had aligned.
My instincts had aligned.
Hell, my own Celestial Mapping program proved it.
Even my magic reacted differently around her.
Stronger.
Sharper.
More controlled somehow despite the unbearable intensity of my emotions.
That should not have been possible.
And yet there it was.
I rested one hand against the cold stone windowsill and stared out into the storm while the truth settled heavier inside me.
I wasn’t good enough for her.
That part remained painfully obvious.
Amrin deserved someone gentle.
Stable.
Safe.
Not a male who nearly tore apart a Werewolf because jealousy made his vision go white.
Not a male whose power reacted violently to emotional instability.
Not a male who spent years terrified of attachment because deep down he knew exactly how dangerous obsession could become in someone like him.
But I wanted her anyway.
And I was no longer certain my arguments against it mattered.
Not after hearing her laugh.
Not after watching her blush when I flirted with her.
Not after the way she melted into my arms when I kissed her beneath the storm-lit skies of Asgarheim.
Fuck.
One kiss had ruined me.
I could still feel her mouth against mine.
Still hear those soft little sounds she made when pleasure caught her off guard.
Still remember the way her body trembled beneath my hands like she’d been starving for tenderness without even realizing it.
Mine.
The possessive thought came instantly again.
Not forced.
Not deliberate.
Instinctive.
I tipped my head back against the stone wall and exhaled slowly.
Gods help me.
I was losing this battle.
Losing it willingly.
And the worst part?
I didn’t think I wanted to win anymore.
Not when losing meant I finally got to have her.