Page 54 of She Who Was Severed

I meet his eyes. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither should you.”

He pauses, and then adds, “I tried. I sent word. Petitioned everyone I could reach.”

I nod. “I know.”

He flinches, like hearing it doesn’t make it hurt less.

“You should have waited.”

“I couldn’t.” I lift the manual slightly. That’s the whole explanation. We both know it.

He glances down at my side. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m alive.”

He moves again, just one step. I can see his hand twitch like he wants to reach for me but doesn’t trust it.

“Freya—”

“No,” I say, voice firm. “Whatever it is, don’t say it. It won’t change what comes next.”

His mouth opens, closes. Then something in him breaks past the edge. “They’re going to hunt you.”

“I know.”

“They’ll strip your name out of the records. They’ll erase you.”

I nod again, slower this time. “They’re already doing it.”

“I won’t let them.”

I look down. Not because I don’t believe him—because I do.

“You can’t stop them all, Kellen.”

“I’d try.”

And I believe that, too. Which is the problem.

His hand lifts, almost to my arm. The one wrapped in chain. He stops just short, fingers hovering like they remember something he’s afraid to touch again.

Something creaks overhead. Not loud—but enough to pull our attention upward. A stair tread maybe. Or a shift in the floor above. Whatever it is, we both hear it.

Kellen doesn’t move.

Neither do I.

Then, quiet—measured, like he already knows what it’ll cost, he says, “I’ll stop them.”

I blink. My throat tightens.

“Kellen…” My voice barely rises. “You can’t stop them all.”

He meets my eyes. Doesn’t hesitate.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of, Freya.”