“And you’re holding back,” she shoots back, softer but no less direct.
Behind me, Finn shifts slightly. Not stepping in. Just there. Sol’s purr doesn’t falter. Koa doesn’t look up, but I can feel the attention anyway, quiet and steady.
They’re letting this play out.
Letting me decide.
I hate that.
Because deciding means stepping in.
And stepping in means she sees?—
“What if you don’t like what you see?” The words come out before I can stop them, rough and unfiltered.
Silence holds for a second.
Her gaze doesn’t move.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like what I see,” she says.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Just fact.
I study her face, looking for any crack in it, any sign she hasn’t thought that through.
There’s nothing.
Just her, steady and open and waiting like she already knows the answer.
Something in my chest shifts, not easing, but settling into something heavier and harder to ignore.
“Yeah?” I ask, quieter now.
She nods. “Yeah.”
I hold her gaze for a second longer, then exhale slowly, letting some of that tension bleed out without fully disappearing.
“Dangerous thing to say,” I mutter.
Her lips curve. “You’re still here.”
I huff a breath, something almost like a laugh catching in it. “Yeah,” I admit. “I am. But what if we bond, and you don’t like…me?” It’s embarrassing to voice my biggest fear out loud, especially in front of Finn and my brothers, but the words slip out without permission.
“I wouldn’t want to bond if I wasn’t already sure that what’s inside you is good, Kai,” she tells me softly.
Something in her tone soothes me. I settle. Relax. Trust her. Trust in us. In this bond that’s yet to be cemented, but is already well on its way to be established.
This time when I lean in, I don’t stop.
My hand tightens slightly at her hip, grounding her as my other hand moves to her shoulder, guiding her just enough that she has to face me properly. Her breath stutters, the shift immediate, and the scent in the room thickens again in response.
No one interrupts.
They’re letting me take this.