Page 59 of Shattered Obsession

In this heavy silence, we don’t utter Damian’s name again. Instead, Xander pulls me close, wrapping his arms around me, burying his face in my hair as if trying to absorb my presence, solid and real. His arms tighten around me, but it’s not a cage; it’s a shield. The scent of him pulls me back into my body. Cedar, rain, and adrenaline.

My cheek presses against his chest, and I feel the uneven rhythm of his heartbeat, like his emotions are punching their way out.

“Thalia,” he murmurs.

Just my name.

But it lands like a vow.

I tilt my head up. He’s watching me like he’s memorizing my face, not with hunger but reverence. As if I’m something precious, not something broken.

Heat moves between us. Slow, not rushed, built from everything unsaid.

The world outside still feels dangerous and full of uncertainty, but in this moment, wrapped in his embrace, sheltered from the chaos, I allow myself to breathe, letting the tension melt away, if only for tonight.

My muscles still twitch with leftover panic, as if my body can’t decide whether it’s finally safe or seconds away from shattering again. The room is quiet, but my mind echoes like a cavern—Damian’s laugh, the roar of fists connecting with flesh, the shock of seeing Xander lose control for me. All of it loops in fragments like broken film. I should be terrified of what Xander did. I should be terrified of what I wanted him to do. Instead, I’m terrified of how safe I felt.

I press my forehead to his sternum, breathing in the scent of him. The steady beat of his heart anchors me. I count the rhythm like steps, like instructions. Inhale, exhale, stay.

“You’re safe,” he whispers into my hair, even though I didn’t say anything. But that’s how he is. He hears the words I don’t speak. I bury my fingers in his shirt and hold on. I don’t know how to explain the relief of being defended, of knowing someone would bleed before letting me be taken again. Xander isn’t my shield; he’s my fury. My protection. My proof that I am no longer alone.

The night is still heavy, my body humming with everything that just happened outside. My mind keeps replaying Damian’s bloody grin, the way Xander’s fists slammed into him. I should be shaking. I should be falling apart. But when Xander looks at me, eyes dark and storming, my pulse spikes for a different reason.

Not from fear.

From choice.

There is a difference between being forced and choosing.

When Xander pauses and looks back at me, waiting, something inside me settles.

He won’t move until I do.

That power is mine.

The word shouldn’t affect me like this, shouldn’t ignite heat and fear in the same breath.

I swear I can still taste panic in the back of my throat from earlier. He doesn’t touch me yet. He lets anticipation do the touching.

“You don’t know what it did to me, seeing him. Thinking he could take you again. I need to erase him from your body. From your mind. Will you let me?”

“Yes,” I whisper, breath catching. “Please.”

That’s all he needs.

Clothes come off fast, tossed across the apartment as we move from the living room to the bedroom. His belt slides free, and my wrists are bound to the headboard before I can catch another breath. The leather digs just enough to remind me I’ve given up control, and it sends shivers down my spine. He kneels between my thighs, his calloused hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise, his mouth trailing heat and teeth down my stomach. When his tongue slides over my clit, I arch against the restraints, already trembling.

“Mine,” he growls against me. “Say it.”

“Yours,” I gasp, again and again, as he pushes me closer. But he doesn’t let me fall over the edge. He pulls back, chest rising and falling like he’s barely in control himself.

His cock presses at my entrance, thick and hard, but he pauses, eyes locked on mine.

“Color?”

The safe word system. The reminder that I’m not trapped. That this is mine too.

“Green,” I breathe, chest aching with how much I want him. He slams into me in one brutal thrust, and I cry out, pleasure and pain tangled. His hand closes around my throat, his other gripping my hip as he pounds into me, relentless. Every thrust is a brand, burning away the shadows Damian left behind. I’m undone, writhing, gasping and begging as he wrecks me in the best way.