Not pink exactly—his blue skin darkened slightly across his cheeks—but unmistakably flustered.
Warmth flooded through me instantly.
The mighty celestial Monster got shy around me.
That realization settled somewhere deep inside my chest and bloomed.
And I thought maybe—maybe I really could have him.
The thought felt terrifying.
Impossible.
Wonderful.
We left together shortly after, walking side by side through the forbidden forest surrounding the Institute grounds.
Runevald at night felt different.
Older.
The ley lines beneath the island pulsed faintly beneath our feet while auroras shimmered overhead where the multiverse bled through the skies of Asgarheim.
Everything about this felt forbidden.
A struggling Witch and a celestial Monster wandering dangerous woods together after midnight.
And somehow—we fit anyway.
My crush on him had officially become something far more dangerous.
“So,” I asked carefully as we walked, “you mentioned the place you’re from before.”
“The realm of Asgard,” he replied.
Hmm.
“So, that explains the panty-melting accent you have sometimes,” I muttered before thinking.
Silence.
I froze.
Oh gods.
Why was I like this?
Sten stopped walking entirely, head tilting in that gorgeous confused way he had whenever I rambled myself into social disaster.
Then he laughed.
Actually laughed.
Deep and rough and beautiful enough to make my entire body light up.
Shit.
I bit my lip automatically.
