Neither of them brings up what happened on the porch, but it lingers thick in the air between us like a question. One I pretend not to hear.
I climb the stairs slowly, each step heavier than the last. My chest tightens. Guilt twists sharp in my gut.
Because I haven't told them everything.
Like the fact that satyrs can only access a nymph's power once they marry her.
Like the fact that Darius proposed to me.
Like the fact that I said yes.
And that we're still technically engaged, because he never let me go.
Because his damn ring is still buried at the bottom of my backpack.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Kayden
Once she's gone, I glance at my brother. We hold the silence between us for a beat too long.
Yeah, we both felt it. That thing on the porch. Not planned, but real.
"She's staying longer," I say, breaking the air with something obvious, just to start.
"She is," Asher replies, his tone neutral. "But she hasn't decided yet. And if she does stay, are you ready for what that means?"
No need to spell it out. We both know what he's really asking.
"Would I want her all to myself?" I shrug. "Absolutely. No question. But she liked the whole… setup. The tension. The way we pull at her from opposite sides. So nah, I don't mind sharing. Not with you."
What I don't say—what Iwon'tsay—is that I've never seen Asher soften for anyone before. At least, not in a long time. He guards, he gives, he shoulders the world, but takes nothing for himself. Good ol' righteous Colonel. Noble to a fault.
The dull bastard needs to get laid.
No, he needs more than that. Something real.Someonereal. Maybe Sage is that. For him. For me. Hell, maybe for both of us.
But I'd be damned before I say that out loud. He'd check my temperature. Ask if a skinwalker's wearing my face.
"She's complicated," Asher mutters.
"So are we," I counter. "We've done this before. A woman between us."
Before everything fell apart. Before we chose different paths.
"She's not like before. She's not a fling or an indulgence," he says quietly.
"No," I agree. "She's not."
We both glance toward the stairs. Toward the woman we're both teetering around.
"She has to want it too," Asher adds, his voice low.
"She does," I say. "But she's holding something back."
"She's been through hell," he says. "And I don't think we've heard even half the story."
"Which means we don't push. But if she stays… we're on the same page, yeah?" I shoot him a look. "No jealousy. No dramatic brooding in the shadows. No tantrums."
