Day 21 of sanctuary life
"They can visit," Ina announced over breakfast.
I choked on my tea. "What?"
"Your mates. One at a time. Supervised. You're strong enough now."
"I don't want to—"
"Too bad. You can't hide forever."
---
Raka came first.
He stepped into the sanctuary looking like hell. Dark circles under his eyes. Hair disheveled.
Good.
"Ayla," he said, voice cracking.
I stayed where I was, arms crossed. "Raka."
Awkward silence. The bond pulled tight. I ignored it.
"You burned my gift," he said.
"I did."
"Why?"
"Because you don't get to buy forgiveness with jewelry. You were cruel. Deliberate. You made my life hell."
Raka flinched. "I know. I was terrified of you."
"I was human. What was there to fear?"
"Not what you were. What you could become." He ran a hand through his hair. "I knew about the seal. About your bloodline. My father told me when I turned sixteen. That someday you'd awaken and be more powerful than any of us. So I tried to break you first."
I stared at him. "You knew?"
"Yes. And I was wrong. I know I was cruel. I know I destroyed any chance of you caring about me. But I can't take it back. I can only try to be better."
"Why should I believe you?"
"Because I'm here. I've been camped outside for three weeks. I felt you burn my gift and it nearly killed me. I felt you test cutting our connection and thought I was dying." His voice broke. "And I'm still here. Because you're mine and I'm yours and I can't breathe without you."
The raw honesty hit me like a blow.
"That's not my problem," I said quietly.
"I know. It's mine. And I'll spend the rest of my life trying to fix it if you let me."
"He's sincere," Sahya said. "Terrified and sincere."
I could feel it through the bond. His fear. His regret. His desperate need.
"I burned your mother's jewelry," I said.
"I know."
"And I'm still furious with you."
"I know." He took a careful step forward. "Can I come closer?"
I should have said no.
"One step."
He took one step. Stopped. Waiting.
The bond thrummed between us.
"I was cruel because I was terrified," Raka said quietly. "But I'm more terrified of what I'll become without you."
"One chance," I said. "You get one chance. If you—"
I didn't finish because Raka closed the distance and kissed me.
Not gentle. Claiming.
I bit his lip. Hard.
He groaned and pulled me closer.
The kiss was angry and desperate. All teeth and fury and the bond singing between us.
When we broke apart, we were both breathing hard. His lip was bleeding.
"You bit me."
"You kissed me without asking."
"Do it again."
All the anger from years of his cruelty bubbled up. I kissed him again. Harder. Meaner. Using teeth and nails.
Raka took it all. Gave back just as hard. His hands in my hair, mine fisted in his shirt.
When we finally broke apart, we were both bleeding.
"Fuck," Raka breathed.
"Yeah."
"Can we do that again?"
"No. That was a one-time thing."
"Liar. I can feel the bond."
"Wanting and allowing are different things."
He smiled, bloodied and feral. "You're going to make me work for this."
"Every single day."
"Good. I deserve it."
Ina appeared. "Your time is up, Raka."
"Thank you," he said to me. "For not giving up on me yet."
"Don't thank me. I still might."
"I'll take the 'yet.'"
He left. I touched my bleeding lip and tried to process what happened.
"You're starting to forgive him," my wolf said.
"I'm absolutely not."
"You kissed him back."
"That's not forgiveness. That's... consideration."
Maybe.
---
Rivan came two days later, looking worse than Raka. Thin, pale, exhausted.
"Ayla."
"Rivan."
He held out new letters. "I wrote more. Better ones."
I took them. "Why do you keep writing?"
"Because words are all I have. I'm not strong like Raka or structured like Tama. I'm just words." He looked at me. "I loved you since we were teens. Before the bond. I loved you and I hid it because I was afraid of what Raka would say."
I stared at him. "You loved me?"
"Yes. Every time you smiled despite everything. Every time you got back up. Every time you counted backwards and kept going." He smiled sadly. "I loved you and did nothing. I'm the worst kind of coward."
"Yeah. You are."
He flinched. "I know."
"Raka was honest in his cruelty. You hid behind pretty words and silence. That's worse. Because I trusted your silence to mean you weren't like him."
"I know." Tears welled. "I hate myself for it. I'd take it all back if I could."
I looked at the letters. At his tears. At the genuine remorse.
Then I threw them in the fire.
"No!" Rivan lunged forward.
I caught his arm. "Watch them burn."
"Ayla, please—"
"Watch. Them. Burn."
He did. Tears streaming as his poetry turned to ash.
"That's what your silence felt like," I said quietly. "Like watching something precious burn and doing nothing."
"I understand."
"Do you?"
"Yes." He turned to me. "You're burning away what I was. The coward. And you're asking me to be better."
"I'm not asking anything. I'm showing you what it feels like."
"Then let me show you something." He knelt. "I love you. I've always loved you. And I will prove that my words mean something."
"Get up."
"Not until you believe me."
"I don't believe you."
"Then I'll stay here."
"He means it," Sahya said.
"Get up," I said again.
This time, he did.
"Write better poetry," I told him. "Not about love or stars. Write about truth. About cowardice and regret and becoming better. Write something real."
"I will."
"One chance. Same as Raka. Don't waste it."
"I won't."
Before he left, Rivan turned back. "I memorized them. Every poem. Even the burned ones. Someday, when you're ready, I'll recite them."
"Don't hold your breath."
He smiled. "I've got time."
After he left, I stared at the ashes and wondered if I was being too harsh.
"You're teaching them," Sahya said. "That's consequence, not cruelty"
Maybe.
But it still felt like balancing on a knife's edge.
Ninety-one.