Talen feels the shift too. His grip eases before his hands fall away and he retreats a few steps, just enough to look at me.
Suddenly a different heat rises when my gaze lands on him.
He’s wet. Shirtless. His chest rises heavily as water traces down the hard lines of his body, following the deep V of muscle beneath his skin before vanishing at the waist of his leather trousers.
I follow it without meaning to, almost lost in a trance, and when I glance back up his eyes catch mine—hold—then drop to my lips.
Desire lashes through my chilled veins as a brutal rhythm builds behind my sternum, climbing higher, pressing at my throat.
God. I want, I want to?—
I try to shove the thought down, to swallow it. But the surge is too violent, too sudden and the dam breaks.
I move before I can stop myself.
Talen doesn’t move. Doesn't stop me.
And my fist connects with his nose with a sharp, satisfying crack.
Stumbling back, his hands fly to his face.“Fuck, Bloom?—”
“That’s for Ezzy,” I hurl the words at him, ignoring the pain flaring through my hand.
His mouth opens—maybe to argue, maybe to apologise—I don’t give him the chance. My knee drives up next, fast and vicious, catching him square in the groin.
Doubling over, Talen folds with a strangled groan, hands dropping from his nose.
“And that’s for Brian. For Rowan.” The words tear out of me, raw and uneven. I don’t even care that it wasn’t fully his fault.He’s the one standing in front of me. He’s the one I can hit. And right now, I needsomeoneto hurt the way I hurt.
Talen lifts his hands in surrender, but I don’t stop. I’m too angry to stop.
“And that’s—” My fist slams against his chest, solid muscle under my knuckles, “—that’s for letting me believe you were one of them.”
“Fuck, Lyra—” He straightens despite the pain, hands half-raised like he longs to reach for me but doesn’t dare. “I wanted to tell you so many times. I almost did. But I’veneverbeen one of them. It’s gotten easier to pretend I am. But having you actually believe it? Having you look at me like I was?” Voice breaking, he turns toward the lake and the black scales inked on his back come into full view. “God, it was fucking killing me.”
The crack in his tone does something dangerous to my breathing, and as he turns back my focus lifts from the birthmark above his heart to his face before I can stop them—and I see it. The pain. The torment laid bare across it.
I look away fast.
“And what the hell were you thinking?” I continue, clinging to the anger because it’s easier than admitting the desire underneath. “Taking me up on a bloody dragon?”
“I didn’t think it would be that bad,” his voice is still strained. “I thought I could control it, keep you steady. I can do it with anyone else, I’ve done it for years. But with you…” Shaking his head, his jaw tightens. “Because of this shared Threadfield, I couldn’t even hold my own magic straight with your fear bleeding into me.”
Raking a hand through his wet hair, he exhales hard and shifts a step away, and it takes more effort than it should not to follow him and pull him back.
“I’m sorry.” He sighs, softer now. “You're right. This was such a mistake. I misjudged it. I shouldn’t have tried to manage youremotions like that. I just wanted your first ride with Ahria to be perfect. I thought if I could smooth the edges it would help the bond.”
Following his gaze, I turn toward Ahria, who’s settled about a hundred metres away, grooming one wing, and the same hollow pull opens inside me all over again, just like it did when I first saw her.
I’ve never wanted anything more. It’s overwhelming and perfect at the same time—the thought of her, of this Blood Moon Ceremony, of being bonded with her.
I get it. I get why he did it, controlling my Threads, my fear, like that. Hell, I allowed it. I could have said no. Still, the wordsmanage your emotions, slipunder my skin and settle colder than the lake.
“How can I even trust you?” My voice wavers despite my effort to keep it steady as I face Talen again. “That you’ve not been messing with my emotions all this time. Did you ever actually care? Was any of it real? Or was this only about helping Merrin—about whatever he thinks I’m supposed to be?”
“Was it real?” he repeats. “God, Lyra, it was the only real fucking thing I’ve had in years…” Taking a step forward, he starts closing the distance between us and my pulse kicks up, but I don’t move. “I never planned for this—for us—to happen. It wasn’t a strategy. From the first day I saw you in the courtyard, all I wanted was to keep you safe. You made it pretty difficult at times... but that was it.”
His hand runs over his stubble as his throat works and his expression softens in a way that has my heart skipping a beat.
