“Good,” he says easily. “But if I were to do that, I’d say you’re letting the past dictate everything.”
Jax stills.
But Ronyn keeps going. “You let what happened withhimpaint everyone with the same brush. No one is trustworthy. No one is genuine. But maybe, Jax, someone might actually want to be a friend to you.”
Then, quieter?—
“Like me.”
The words land harder than they should. Warmth sparks in her chest, and she hates it. Resists it. Shoves it down.
“I notice things, Jaxxy.”
Jax shifts again, restless now, her weight moving from one foot to the other as if she can physically step out of the moment if she just keeps moving.
“Then notice this,” she says, stepping closer, reclaiming space before he can take it. “I’m fine.”
His gaze drops briefly, taking in the tension she’s holding in her body, the tight set of her shoulders, the way her fingers curl against her arms. And she hates the way he takes her in, notices her, clocks everything. She squirms under the scrutiny.
Then he looks back at her.
“Yeah,” he says. “I can see that.”
There’s no mockery in it. Just quiet accuracy. And that’s worse.
“I’m the only one who understands you, Jaxxy.”
Maldrak’s voice floods her mind. Low. Certain. Too close. His hand brushes her jaw like he had a right to be there.
“You don’t have to fight me, Jax. You’re safe with me.”
She blinks.
And he’s gone.
Stone. Cold air. Ronyn.Not him.
“I’ve heard it all before,” she murmurs, voice cold and low.
But ancient rage flares sharp and hot in her chest, and her tongue lashes out with venom she’s learned to wield like a weapon.
“I’ve listened to men promise safety over and over again, Ronyn. I’ve been fed a narrative of protection that has never come to pass. Women with power are always told the same shit—that our safety lies with men. And you know what I’ve learned, Ronyn?” she hisses, teeth bared in a vicious promise.
But Ronyn doesn’t flinch.
He leans in. “What did you learn, Jaxxy? Tell me.” He says the words with sincerity. Like he actually wants to know. And the honesty in his eyes unsettles her.
“I’ve learned that men’s promises exist only to further their own agendas. That promises are lies dressed up as oaths.”
Her voice breaks.
Ronyn’s brow furrows, and for a flash, she thinks she sees pity there.
Her mouth twists into a snarl at the sight.
“I can see that, Jax. I can. Power is pooled at the feet of a powerful few, and they are the ones making promises to you,” Ronyn agrees, but he pauses, weighing his next words very carefully.
“But how do you see this going, Jaxxy? You hate yourself and everyone around you until the Stars claim you back? You despise your existence and never know joy, love… peace?”
