Chapter 10
Malrik
Her voice cracks on the joke.
No one laughs.
Kaia’s hand presses briefly to her ribs—quick, instinctive—before she swallows once, twice, and pushes her chair back slowly.
“I need some air,” she says quietly.
No one stops her.
Her shadows peel off immediately—Bob bristling protectively, Mouse trotting after her, others dissolving into her wake like a quiet escort.
Kieran shifts forward slightly, like he’s about to stand, then stops himself.
The door closes behind her.
The room shifts.
Lighter without her tension.
Heavier with worry.
No one moves at first.
No one wants to be the first to speak.
Finn pushes his hair back—anxious tic I’ve seen a hundred times. Aspen’s jaw flexes. Torric looks like he’s physically restraining himself from going after her.
Kieran’s posture is rigid, watching the door like he’s still deciding whether to follow.
And Darian—
Darian freezes in place, hands curled around a cup he isn’t drinking, shoulders tight, body angled away from the table like he’s trying to disappear.
Torric breaks first.
“She shouldn’t be walking that much,” he snaps—too sharp, too fast.
Fear, dressed up as anger, of course it is.
Aspen doesn’t look away from the door. “Her ribs aren’t stable,” he says quietly. “She needs rest, not guilt.”
Always calculating the risk.
Finn drags both hands through his hair, chaos magic flickering around his knuckles. “She’s upright. I’ll take the win.” He pauses. “But yeah… she’s not okay.”
His magic always gives him away before his voice does.
And Darian—
He folds in on himself. Shoulders curled. Eyes down. Hands white-knuckled around the cup he’s still not drinking.
The look of a man who expects to be cast out again.
Finn notices too. His gaze flicks to Darian, lingers for a moment, softens.
Aspen studies him with that quiet, analytical intensity he uses when he’s working through something.
Darian whispers, almost too quiet to hear.
“I shouldn’t be here.”
The table reacts instantly.
Torric’s growl is sharp. “NO.”
Finn’s head snaps up. “Oh for—no, dude.”
Aspen straightens, ice-blue eyes sharp.
Kieran freezes for half a second, then his expression closes. But he doesn’t disagree.
I lean back in my chair, shadows curling lazily around my feet.
“You’re hers too,” I say simply.
Silence.
Then chaos.
Torric slams his hand on the table. Heat rolls off him.
Finn’s eyebrows shoot up. “Well… he’s not wrong.”
Aspen tilts his head, studying Darian thoughtfully.
Kieran’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t object.
Darian looks like I just shattered his entire worldview.
“No.” He shakes his head. “She shouldn’t— I don’t deserve—”
He can’t finish the sentence.
I keep my voice calm. Logical. “Deserving has nothing to do with it.”
“Your bond with her, whatever it is…” I pause. “It’s real. You both feel it. You’re as much a part of her as she is of you. That means something—whether you think it should or not.”
Walter bobs through the doorway—unbothered, curious, pulsing softly with faint purple light. He drifts toward Darian, hovers near his shoulder for a moment, then floats away like he’s satisfied.
Finn repositions in his chair, chaos magic settling slightly. “Sorry, man. It’s a package deal. Welcome to the madness.”
Torric mutters, “I am not babysitting his guilt spiral—”
Aspen smacks him lightly on the arm. “You’re being dramatic.”
Torric whirls on him. “I AM DRAMATIC.”
Finn cracks up.
I don’t bother hiding my amusement. He is—painfully so.
Kieran’s voice cuts through the noise. Quiet. Steady. Absolute.
“He stays.”
The room goes still.
Darian stares at Kieran like he doesn’t understand what just happened.
Kieran doesn’t elaborate. Just holds Darian’s gaze until Darian looks away first.
Torric mutters something under his breath but doesn’t argue further.
Aspen nods once—small, certain.
Finn grins. “See? Democracy.”
Idiotic. But apparently it works for them.
Darian’s hands loosen around the cup. Slowly. Like he’s afraid to believe it.
“…Thank you.” Barely a sound. Like he’s afraid saying it out loud will undo it.
He means it. That’s the part Torric hates the most.
The table softens.
It’s not forgiveness, but acceptance. For now.
I watch them all carefully.
This isn’t coincidence.
This is alignment.
Darian is no longer an outsider.
Torric is reluctantly accepting.
Kieran is steady—old power held tight under control.
Finn is the emotional glue holding us together.
Aspen is quiet support, calculating every move.
And Kaia—everything in this room pivots around her now, whether any of us want to admit it or not.
We’re in this together. Because of her.
Whether it saves us… or takes us apart piece by piece.