Chapter 197

Elvira

I swallowed hard, my hands curling into fists at my sides. How many times had I pushed him away? How many times had I convinced myself that his presence would only suffer if I let myself stay close? But tonight, I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t sleep. I had tried. I had tried to drown myself in the heat of a bath, letting the water mask the ache in my chest, the guilt that clawed at my heart. Yet nothing worked. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his silhouette, his jaw tight, his eyes guarded, the tension in his shoulders that spoke of the distance I had forced between us.

I shook my head, stepping closer, my bare feet silent against the cool stone floor. Guards and maids, the usual bustling of the tower, had been questioned, corners checked, halls scoured—and still, he had eluded me. It was as if he was deliberately hiding from the world, from me, from the pain I had caused. And yet, here he was, alone, training under the moonlight, each motion a testament to his discipline, to the control I had never managed to master over my own heart.

I swallowed my fear, my uncertainty, and stepped forward. My heart hammered violently against my ribs as I closed the distance. I didn’t dare call out. I didn’t dare risk startling him. Instead, I let the silence of the night, the subtle rustle of the leaves, the faint scent of rain on the asphalt guide my approach. Every step was measured, deliberate, because I knew that one wrong move could shatter what little resolve I had.

And then I was close enough. Close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, to sense the steady rhythm of his breathing, to smell the faint scent of sweat and leather that clung to his training gear. My fingers itched to touch him, to reach out and ground myself in the reality that he was here, that he had not left me entirely, that somehow, some way, he was still mine.

I wrapped my arms around him from behind, the action impulsive, desperate, yet impossibly gentle. His body stiffened for a heartbeat, and I could feel the tension ripple through him. I whispered, my voice barely audible over the whispering wind, “I’m sorry… I remembered too late.”

For a moment, nothing moved. Not even his breath. Then I felt him shift, a tremor of surprise running through him as he turned, his eyes meeting mine. And what I saw there, soft, broken, and breathless—made my own chest constrict with longing and relief. He was speechless, truly speechless, and for the first time in months, I realized how much power I had over him, over us, over what we had once shared.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his jaw tight, his brow furrowed, his expression a storm of confusion, longing, and restrained emotion. I could see the muscles in his shoulders relax slightly, the tension of his arms easing, but the war within him was still raging. My own heart hammered in my chest, the memory of every time I had pushed him away, every time I had ignored his need, every time I had acted as if I had no bond with him, seared into my mind with painful clarity.

“I…” he finally managed, voice low and rough, a whisper of the man I had once known, the man who had been my anchor and my storm all at once. His words trailed off, and I felt the tremor of his uncertainty, the hesitation, the fear of letting himself feel again. My hands rested lightly on his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heart, a rhythm I had longed to hear, to synchronize with, for far too long.

“I didn’t… I never…” His voice broke, and I felt my own eyes sting with unshed tears. “I didn’t know if you’d ever… if you’d let me…”

“You don’t have to say it,” I murmured, pressing my cheek to his back, feeling the warmth of his skin seep into mine. “I… I never stopped loving you. Even when I pushed you away. Even when I forgot… I never stopped.”

His arms twitched as if he wanted to wrap me up, to hold me, but he froze, unsure. I felt his breath hitch, felt the tremor in his body as he absorbed the weight of my words. And then, slowly, cautiously, his hands reached around me, settling on my waist, anchoring me to him as if to remind himself that I was real, that I was here, that I hadn’t vanished as I had so many times before.

“I… Elvira…” His voice was barely a whisper, rough with emotion, disbelief threading through every syllable. His lips parted, and I could see the flood of feelings warring behind his eyes: anger, relief, longing, fear, hope. I could feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of my dress, the steady pulse beneath his skin, the way his fingers trembled as they held me.

“I’m here,” I said softly, letting the words carry all the weight I could muster. “I’m here, Jaxon. I’m not leaving again.”

The silence that followed was heavy, a shared breath between us, a pause pregnant with everything we had lost and everything we had yet to reclaim. The moonlight spilled across his face, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw, the shadow of stubble, the intensity in his eyes that had never faded, that had only grown stronger in the weeks I had been apart from him.

And then, finally, he spoke again. “You… you remembered?” His voice was thick, vulnerable, and I could feel the fragility behind it.

“I remembered,” I confirmed, turning in his embrace just enough to look up at him. “Too late… but I remembered. And I—” My words faltered as he leaned closer, closing the distance between us, his forehead resting against mine, his breath warm against my skin.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” he murmured, voice low and strained, a shiver running through him. “After everything… after the curse… after all the walls… I thought…” His words trailed off, and I felt the weight of his fear, his anger, his longing press against me.

“You thought I’d never come back,” I whispered. “I almost didn’t. But I can’t… I can’t push you away anymore. I won’t. Not after this.”

His lips brushed mine, tentative at first, testing, a featherlight touch that sent a shiver through me. And then, just as I leaned in, just as I allowed myself to close the space between us, his arms tightened around me, and our lips met fully, igniting something that had been smoldering beneath the surface for months.

The kiss was soft, searching, hesitant, yet filled with all the passion we had denied each other for so long. I felt his hands move along my back, pulling me closer, anchoring me to him, as if he feared I might vanish again. My own hands threaded through his hair, holding him, needing him, reclaiming him in that single, fragile moment.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered against his lips, breaking the kiss just enough to let my words reach him. “I forgot… but I never stopped loving you.”

His eyes searched mine, wide, broken, and I saw everything, pain, relief, hope, and a depth of love I had longed to witness again. And then he pressed his lips to mine once more, deeper this time, consuming, claiming, a kiss that spoke of forgiveness, of longing, of second chances.

“You… you have no idea what it did to me,” he breathed, pulling back just enough to let me see the raw emotion etched across his face. “To think… to believe… that you’d forgotten me, that you’d left me… I—” He faltered, swallowed hard, then pressed his forehead against mine. “I don’t care. I don’t care about the past. I only care about you, Elvira. Right here. Right now.”

I let myself smile through the tears threatening to spill, pressing my hands to his chest as I leaned into him fully. “Then stay,” I whispered. “Stay with me. Don’t leave again. Don’t let me push you away.”

He held me tighter, and I felt the flicker of our bond awaken, subtle at first, then growing stronger, weaving around us, a fragile thread of energy that hummed beneath our skin. I gasped at the sensation, feeling our connection pulse, alive once more, tentative but undeniably present.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, lips brushing the crown of my head. “Never again. Not after this.”

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, holding each other under the cold glow of the moonlight, letting the silence speak, letting our hearts reconcile, letting the bond that had been severed flicker back to life. The night wrapped around us, protective and still, as if the world had paused just to allow this moment to exist.

And in that silence, in that embrace, I knew, truly knew, that no matter how many times I had pushed him away, no matter how long I had tried to deny the bond, the love, the connection we shared, Jaxon and I were bound to each other. Always.

And in that truth, I found my peace, if only for this night, as I pressed my face into his chest and let myself finally, completely, be home.