Chapter 112 112

Chapter 112 112
IVER’S POV

Silence doesn’t feel like silence. It feels loud, too obvious.. Everything presses in at once, the air, the space, the cracks still settling in the walls. I can feel it all like it’s too close to my skin, like there’s nothing separating me from any of it. Something is missing, not my power but something else. But I can’t put a name to it.

Something that used to sit beneath everything steady, constant, unnoticed, gone. And without it there’s nothing between me and any of this. My gaze lifts to Selene. That’s a mistake because it hits instantly not just the bond but everything.

The connection slams into me raw and unfiltered, every instinct tied to her rising at once sharp, demanding, impossible to ignore. It’s not just awareness. It’s too much that my breathing shifts.
She doesn’t move, but I feel her anyway. Closer than she is. Stronger than she should be.

“You feel it,” she says quietly.

A rough breath leaves me. “Feel it?” My voice comes out uneven. “I can’t not feel it.”

Her expression tightens slightly, but she doesn’t step back. That makes it worse. Distance might have helped. This doesn’t, it doesn’t work.

My hand curls at my side, then flexes like I’m trying to hold onto something solid. It doesn’t work.
The bond is too loud. She is too loud. And beneath all of it something else rises. Something that has always been there but never this clear. It hits me just as hard. My chest tightens slightly as I look at her again, really look at her this time and I feel it, not the dulled and controlled version I forced myself to believe. Not buried under anything else.

It’s there, raw, certain and unavoidable. It’s love. The realization doesn’t come gently. It lands like everything else, sharp, overwhelming, impossible to ignore. It threads through the bond, through the pull toward her, through every instinct screaming to close the distance between us. And now there’s nothing muting it. Nothing holding it back. My breathing shifts again, slower this time, but heavier.

“You said you stabilized it,” I managed.

“I did.”

“Is this stable?”

“It’s contained.”

A humorless breath leaves me. “That’s not the same thing.”

“No,” she agrees.

The honesty doesn’t help because now I know she feels at least part of this. Not like I do.
Not this intense, not this exposed or vulnerable. I take a step back because I need space.
Still, it barely changes anything.

“You’re reacting to everything at once,” she says. “It’ll level out.”

“When?” She doesn’t answer. My frustration spikes fast

My unfiltered gaze snaps away from her, landing on the cracked wall just to focus on something that isn’t her because if I keep looking this gets worse.

“Careful,” she says.

My head turns sharply. “Don’t.”

Her chin lifts slightly. “Don’t what?”

“Talk to me like I’m about to lose control.”

Her eyes hold mine. “You are.”

That hits harder than it should because it’s not entirely wrong. And right now, wrong things feel like the truth. My pulse spikes. Power stirs under it, contained, but not settled.

“You don’t trust me,” I say. The words come out sharper than I intend, more exposed. I hate that.

Her answer is immediate. “Right now? I trust you to try.” Not enough for me. I need her to feel what I’m feeling so that’s not enough.

The silence stretches, heavy, charged. And under it… that feeling is still there, stronger now. Pushing past everything else. I look at her again and it’s worse. Because it doesn’t fade. It doesn’t weaken under the tension or the anger or the fact that she just tore something out of me.
If anything, it’s clearer. My voice lowers without me meaning it to.

“I can feel everything,” I say.

Her gaze sharpens slightly, but she doesn’t interrupt. “Every shift,” I continue. “Every reaction. Every…” I stop briefly, jaw tightening. Then I force it out anyway. “Every part of you.”

I pause, the air tightens between us. “And it doesn’t stop,” I add, quieter now. “It doesn’t pull back. It just… stays.”

Her expression changes slightly, not soft, not guarded. Something in between. I hold her gaze.
Because there’s no distance left to hide behind.

“No filter,” I say. “No space. Nothing in between.”

My voice drops further. “And that includes this.”

The word sits there for half a second before I say it before I let it exist out loud. “I love you.”

Silence hits harder than anything that came before it, not soft or gentle but heavy. Because it doesn’t sound like a confession. It sounds like a realization I didn’t get to choose. Her breath shifts, just slightly. I see it, feel it. And still… nothing in me pulls back.

“If there was anything left dulling it before,” I continue, voice rough now, “it’s gone.”

My jaw tightens. “This is what’s left.”

This was the most vulnerable I’ve been. I never even told my mom I loved her and I did, at least for some time.

Her name almost leaves me, but I stop it. Because I don’t need to say it again.
It’s already there. She’s everywhere. And the worst part… it doesn’t weaken anything else.
It doesn’t soften the tension. It doesn’t fix what’s broken between us. It just exists. Stronger than everything I should be focusing on instead.

My gaze stays locked on hers. “You don’t trust me,” I say again, quieter now, not accusing this time, just stating it. It was as clear as day.

Her answer doesn’t change. “I don’t trust you like this.” Something in my chest tightens but it doesn’t erase what I just said. It doesn’t take it back nor does it lessen it. If anything… It makes it worse. Because now I feel that too. When things hurt I do, just as clearly as I feel love.

My power flickers under my skin, controlled but only just and I realize something then.
The goddess didn’t just hold my power in place, she gave me distance from this, from her, from myself. Now.., there’s nothing in between.