Page 86 of Shattered Obsession

Sound—Xander’s breathing, steady, steady, steady.

Smell—coffee and the faint scent of motor oil clinging to his skin.

Taste—copper from my own fear.

It helps. Just barely. But barely is enough to keep me here, in this kitchen, in this moment, instead of being dragged backward into the dark.

-Xander-

I notice it instantly when the mug hits the counter. The way Thalia jolts, her shoulders curling inward as if preparing for an impending blow, and it stabs at my heart. Guilt twists inside me like a hot blade, burning more intensely than any anger I’ve ever felt. It’s become painfully clear that she’s afraid of me. Not of Damian or anyone else, just me. My hands tighten around the mug’s handle, knuckles blanching as the coffee begins to cool in my grip. Every instinct screams for me to reach out, to pull her into my embrace and plead with her to understand that I would never intentionally hurt her. But a different part of me, the part that witnessed her shuddering reaction to my movement, understands the need for caution. She doesn’t require my arms crushing around her right now. What she needs are my words.

I hate that I’m capable of frightening her.

I hate that in her body, fear has muscle memory.

I’d take every bruise she’s ever carried and put them on myself if I could. Let them bloom across my skin instead. Let me be the one who carries the marks of those nights.

If I could carve a line into the universe and stand between her and every threat, including myself, I would do it without hesitation.

I used to think rage made me powerful.

But looking at her now, curled in on herself, shrinking like she’s trying to become invisible, I realize rage isn’t power.

Control is.

I’d burn down every part of myself before I let her flinch because of me again.

I carefully place the mug down this time, ensuring it lands softly, deliberately. I have to be gentle, exactly how I should have been the night before.

Restraint feels like swallowing lightning.

Every molecule in my body wants to reach for her.

But wanting isn’t the same as deserving.

I used to think strength was fighting.

Now I think it might be stopping.

Maybe the hardest thing I’ll ever do is learn how to soften without losing the parts of me that kept me alive this long.

-Thalia-

His voice breaks the silence, barely above a whisper, yet it feels monumental.

“Thalia.”

I lift my gaze from the table, my heart pounding in my chest. With hesitation, I glance up to meet his eyes, which reflect a mixture of despair and longing.

“I scared you,” he admits, without any trace of justification in his tone. Just raw, undeniable truth. “I saw it last night, and I see it now. And that’s on me.” My throat constricts painfully, tears welling up in the corners of my eyes.

“I hate that my body reacts before I can,” I whisper, not sure if he can even hear me over my pounding pulse. “I hate that I flinch. I know you’re not him, Xander. But there are moments my body forgets.”

A memory flickers, soft at first, then sharp.

A hand on my throat,

A voice telling me to be good,