The next morning, the house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Kyler hadn't slept.
He just sat there at the edge of the bed, staring out the window.
I moved slowly, pain still throbbing from where Zane had slammed me against the wall.
But I had to touch him.
To let him know I was still here.
When I placed my hand on his shoulder, he flinched like I'd burned him.
"I should've been here," he said, voice hollow.
"You can't be everywhere at once."
"I promised to protect you. I failed."
I sat beside him, took his face in my hands.
"You didn't fail me, Kyler. Zane did. Again. And he's gone now."
His eyes filled with something I hadn't seen before.
Not rage. Not pain.
Shame.
"I saw the bruises," he whispered. "I saw what he did. And it made me want to kill him. But if I had… I would've become what I've always feared."
I pressed my forehead to his.
"You didn't need to kill him to prove you love me. You just had to stay. And you did."
He pulled me close, like he thought I might vanish.
"I don't know how to be soft," he whispered. "But I want to try. For you."
Over the next week, something shifted.
He wasn't just my protector anymore.
He was present.
He bandaged my wounds every night.
He kissed me without rushing.
He made jokes—bad ones—and laughed at my eye-rolls.
He looked at me like I was home.
And I started to believe it.
One night, we sat on the floor in front of the fireplace. He poured us both some wine.
And then he said something I'll never forget.
"I've been powerful for years. Feared. Respected. But I've never been important to someone. Not like this."
"You are," I whispered. "To me."
He looked at me, raw and open.
"I don't just want to protect you, Ash. I want to build a life with you. No secrets. No debts. Just… us."
I blinked back tears.
Because for the first time, this didn't feel like a dream anymore.
It felt like a beginning.