Chapter 7
Seph
I woke up to find Ash leaning over me, his muscular chest bare.
It was like he had been watching over me while I slept.
“Hey. What’s going on?”
“You slept next to me. Look,” he said, gesturing.
I vaguely remembered coming to bed last night and curling up with something warm. I knew I had felt safe. I just didn’t realise it was Ash.
I had told him he could. The bed was big enough.
I braced myself. “Shit, I’m sorry – “
“No. Look.”
He pointed at my ungloved hands. They were touching his skin.
Unmarred skin.
I snatched them back. “Oh my God, Ash—”.
I scrambled upright, searching for my gloves.
He shook his head. “You aren’t paying attention. You didn’t hurt me Seph.”
I looked at him, stunned.
A grin spread across his face.
I stared at him, my pulse roaring in my ears.
Something in my chest lifted—before I crushed it.
“That’s not—” I swallowed. “That’s not possible.”
Ash laughed wildly, his eyes sparkling with pure joy. He caught my wrists gently, carefully touching my sleeves before I could retreat further.
“See?” he said, turning my hands palm up between us. “I’m still here. Still breathing. Unhurt.”
I froze.
He shifted closer, slow and deliberate, watching my face the whole time like he was tracking a wild animal for signs of panic.
“You touched me all night,” he said, reverent now. “I woke up once. Thought maybe I’d dreamed it. But you were there. Curled up like you always do when you’re cold. You had your hands by my shoulders.”
My throat tightened. “Ash, I could have—”
“But you didn’t,” he interrupted, fierce certainty. “You won’t . Not like that.”
I shook my head, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “You don’t know that. It could have been an accident. Or the wards. Or—”
“Or maybe,” he said gently, “you have more control than you think.”
That landed like a blow.
I looked up at him.
My chest ached. “You should’ve pushed me away immediately.”
But he was already shaking his head.
I sank back onto the blankets, the fight draining out of me all at once. Ash followed, sitting cross-legged in front of me, close but not touching now — giving me the space to choose.
“I don’t care what anyone says,” he said. “If anyone says you are bad, or wrong, or need fixing—” His jaw clenched. “They’re lying.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, staring at my bare hands like they belonged to someone else.
“I don’t know what this means,” I admitted.
Ash smiled again — softer this time, still fierce, but warm.
“Next time you fall asleep by yourself, you don’t have to stay that way,” he said. “You can ask me to be closer if you want.”
He leaned back on his hands, entirely at ease, like this wasn’t terrifying.
“And” he added with a grin that was almost boyish, “you can touch me.”
A shaky laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it.
I reached automatically for my gloves — and then froze.
Slowly, deliberately, I let my hands fall back into my lap.
Bare.
I met his eyes.
“I want to touch you, Ash,” I whispered. The admission felt like stepping out into open air. “I want to so badly. That’s the problem. I shouldn’t. It’s dangerous.”
“What if I want you to try?” he asked, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
“How can you?” The panic flared again. “You’ve seen what I can do. You’ve seen what happens when I lose control.”
He shrugged, like the answer had always been obvious.
“I trust you.”
The certainty in his voice unsettled me more than doubt would have.
“Do it again,” he said, his eyes bright now — not reckless, but hopeful.
I stared at him as though he’d just suggested stepping off a cliff for fun.
“You don’t understand,” I whispered. “If it surges, I don’t know how to stop it once it starts.”
His expression softened. He shifted slightly closer — not invading, just near enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him.
“Then we don’t start big,” he said gently. “Just my hand. Nothing else.”
“That’s not how it works. It’s contact, Ash.”
“Maybe it has been in the past,” he said, steady and entirely serious. “But this isn’t about power. It’s about you and me.”
My hands curled into fists in my lap, my pulse hammering so hard it made me dizzy.
“Tell me what to do,” I said.
His breath caught — not in victory, but reverence.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “We’ll do it together.”
He lifted one hand, palm up, and held it there between us. Not touching me. Not even close.
“Don’t grab me,” he said. “Just… rest your fingers. If you feel anything change — heat, pressure, fear — you stop. I won’t move. I won’t pull away.”
I shook my head. “Ash—”
“I know,” he said gently. “This is my choice.”
The room felt very quiet. Very still.
My hand trembled as I lifted it. Every instinct in me screamed don’t . Every lesson I’d learned told me this was how people got hurt.
But Ash didn’t flinch. Didn’t brace. Didn’t prepare to defend himself.
He just waited.
I lowered my fingers until they barely brushed the edge of his palm.
Nothing happened.
No surge. No snap of power. No scream in my veins.
I sucked in a breath, stunned.
Ash smiled — slow, careful, like he didn’t want to spook me.
“See?” he murmured. “You’re here. With me.”
My fingers settled more fully against his skin.
My vision blurred.
“You’re not hurting me,” he said. Wonder threaded his voice.
“Oh,” I breathed. “Oh.”
A tear slid down my cheek before I could stop it. I didn’t wipe it away.
I let my thumb move — just a fraction — brushing his skin. It was a lightning bolt through my body.
I felt warm.
And my power stayed dormant. It didn’t rise up, ugly and all-consuming.
My shoulders sagged as something in me finally loosened.
“I’m still scared,” I whispered.
“That’s okay,” Ash said. “We can stop anytime.”
I looked at our hands — still connected, still safe.
“I don’t want to stop,” I said.
His smile was gentle, reverent.
“Then don’t,” he said. “Just stay here.”
I stared at him, suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to kiss him.
His eyes watched my mouth with longing. “Gods you are beautiful.”
I looked at him, my wild companion, with his silvery brown hair and those mismatched eyes. I didn’t know when it happened, when he had settled in my heart. But now, I was so happy he had.
“Would you… would you ever want to kiss me?” I asked, my voice barely steady.
He didn’t answer immediately.
Not because he didn’t want to — that was obvious — but because he was searching my face, making sure.
“You don’t have to ask me that,” he said quietly.
His jaw tightened, just slightly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know,” I whispered. “But I want to try.”
That was enough.
He leaned in slowly, giving me every chance to change my mind. I didn’t. My breath caught as his forehead brushed mine, our noses nearly touching.
“Okay,” he murmured.
His lips met mine — gentle, careful, warm.
Heat unfurled through me in a slow, golden wave. My power stirred again, humming low beneath my skin, then settled as though it recognised this for what it was — connection.
When he pulled back slightly, his mismatched eyes were blown wide, like he couldn’t quite believe I was real.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
I nodded, dazed. “Yeah.”
He smiled, soft and fierce all at once. “So am I.”
I kissed him again, deeper this time, not out of desperation but because I could.
The world narrowed to warmth and breath and the steady weight of him in front of me. My fingers twisted in the blanket, grounding myself as every nerve in my body came alive.
Ash made a quiet sound against my mouth. One hand lifted instinctively — then stilled, hovering, waiting.
When I didn’t pull away, he let his palm settle lightly at my side through the fabric. Not pressing. Not claiming. Just there.
For once, nothing inside me felt like it was about to shatter.
Tears slid freely down my cheeks.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered, brushing his forehead against mine.
“I’m not — I just…” My voice broke. “I’ve never let myself feel this.”
His expression softened.
“Can I hug you?” he asked carefully. “You can wrap up in the blanket.”
I nodded.
I pulled it around my shoulders, and he leaned in, his arms sliding around me without touching exposed skin. I burrowed into him.
A hug.
So simple, and yet – it was everything.
He breathed in my scent at my nape.
“I don’t want to let you go,” he whispered. “Then don’t,” I said softly.
He chuckled against my throat.
A knock at the door broke us apart.
“Seph?” I heard Kieran say. “You in there?”
Ash growled, rolling his eyes. “You want me to punch him?”
I laughed.
“Not today,” I smiled. It was hard to pull away from this new intimacy between us. But I stood. “Duty calls, right?”
He groaned dramatically. “Fine. But if Phantom sends me to the walls again, I’m filing a complaint.”