Chapter 70
Deric
I told myself I wouldn’t go. Told myself she deserved space, anything but the mess of my world. But as the moon dragged higher and the city went quiet, my feet moved on their own. My car knew the road like it wanted to drag me there by itself. I didn’t even have time to think.
Ava’s apartment building stood like it always had. Lights were off in most of the windows. But hers still glowed dimly, like an invitation or a warning.
I stood outside her door for a full minute.
Then I raised my hand and knocked. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer. I called her phone, it went straight to voicemail, like it has been for days now.
My heart beat hard in my throat. I started to turn away, maybe she’d gone to sleep, maybe she’d moved on, maybe she hated me.
But the door creaked open.
She stood there, wearing a thin, oversized hoodie and leggings. Her dark curls were piled in a messy bun, her face tired and raw. She didn’t look like someone who had been crying. She looked like someone who was done crying.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice was clipped, cool.
I exhaled. “I told myself I could stay away.” I looked her straight in her eye. “I lied.”
A muscle in her jaw jumped. She didn’t say anything.
I stepped closer, careful not to cross the threshold. “I needed to see you.”
She leaned against the doorframe. “You needed to see me? After everything?”
“I know,” I said quietly. “I know I have no right. But I need you to hear me out.”
She folded her arms, but didn’t slam the door in my face. A good sign maybe.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and those two words tasted strange on my tongue. “I should’ve come sooner. I should’ve explained. But I let my silence do the talking, and that was cowardly.”
Still no response.
“I never wanted you involved in any of this, my family, my world, the Council. Eric and Elijah had no right to come to your workplace, to threaten you.” My hands curled into fists. “If I’d known, I swear to the moon, Ava, I would’ve stopped it.”
She raised her chin. “But you do know them. You know how they work. And still, you stayed quiet and never told me a thing.”
“I was scared,” I admitted. “Not of them. But of what it meant to pull you into this world. You’re human. You don’t deserve this kind of madness. I wanted to tell you myself.”
“You think that’s your choice to make?” she asked, voice rising. “You think just because I’m human, I can’t handle truth or pain or danger? And who the hell is Elyra?”
“No,” I said. “I think you can handle all of it. I just didn’t want you to have to. Elyra, she's my wolf mate, but we’ve never been intimate. I swear to the moon goddess herself, you can ask her yourself if you want.”
Silence again.
Then I added, “But I see now that staying away didn’t protect you. It only hurts you.”
She stared at me for a long moment. Her eyes glowed with something unreadable.
“Say that again,” she whispered.
I stepped closer. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For letting you think you didn’t matter.” My throat tightened. “For not showing you that you’re the only thing that’s felt right in a long damn time.”
Her breath hitched.
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” I went on. “But I can’t undo it now. All I can do is stand here and ask you to let me try again.”
Her arms slowly dropped to her sides.
I reached for her hand, not grabbing it, just resting my fingers against hers. “I’ve never wanted someone the way I want you, Ava. Not for a night. Not even for a distraction. But for real.”
She closed her eyes, and for a moment I thought she’d push me away again.
But when she looked up, her voice was barely a breath. “Then why does it still hurt?”
“Because I didn’t fight for you when I should’ve,” I said. “But I’m here now. And if they ever come for you again, I swear, I’ll end them myself. They won’t even dare.”
That was the part I meant more than anything.
She opened the door wider. “Come in,” she said.
My chest loosened. I followed her inside, shutting the door behind me.
The apartment was warm. Smelled like chocolate and something sweet. She walked to the couch without looking back. I followed her like I always would.
She sat. I sat beside her, close.
“I don’t know how to be part of your world,” she said after a long moment. “But I know what I felt. And it wasn’t one-sided.”
I turned to her. “It wasn’t.”
“I hated missing you,” she whispered. “I hated wondering if you were out there, fine, while I was breaking.”
“I wasn’t fine,” I said. “I was lost. But I’m not letting you go again.”
The distance between us loosened. I reached for her slowly, giving her every chance to turn away. But she didn’t. And when I kissed her, it wasn’t like before.
She melted into me, fingers curling into my shirt, breath catching as I deepened the kiss. Her lips moved against mine like they’d been waiting. Her body pressed against me like it remembered something I had tried to forget.
When we pulled apart, her eyes were wide, dazed.
“You sure about this?,” she whispered.
I cupped her cheek. “Yes. I love you, Ava”