Chapter 160 Between fire and moonlight

Chapter 160 Between fire and moonlight
Zara

The night was quiet in a way that almost felt unnatural. I sat on the low stone wall outside the academy dormitory, knees drawn to my chest, chin resting against them. The coolness of the stone seeped into my skin, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It grounded me.

For weeks, everything had been too loud. Too chaotic. My thoughts twisted with memories—some mine, some planted, all tangled until I couldn’t separate them anymore. And then there was Jace.

I sensed him before I heard him. I felt the bond faintly in my chest, pulling tight the closer he came. When his footsteps finally broke the silence, I didn’t need to look up to know it was him.

“You’ll catch a chill sitting out here,” he said softly.

I smiled faintly into my knees. “You sound like my aunt.”

He let out a breath that was half a laugh, half a sigh. “That’s not exactly the role I want to play in your life.”

I lifted my head, and for a moment, I just looked at him. The moonlight caught in his dark hair, painting silver at the edges, and his eyes—those endless, storm-colored eyes—found mine and didn’t look away. He didn’t try to fill the silence. Didn’t push. Just… waited.

“Sit with me,” I said finally, patting the stone beside me.

He lowered himself without hesitation, close enough that our shoulders brushed. The warmth of him radiated through me, and with it, the mate bond pulsed stronger. Like a heartbeat, or a reminder that no matter how far I tried to run, he was stitched into me.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn’t empty though—it was full, charged, vibrating with everything unsaid.

Then Jace exhaled and broke it. “We’ve been through hell, haven’t we?”

I laughed softly, though it wasn’t exactly amused. “That’s one way to put it.”

His hand brushed against mine, tentative, as if asking permission. I didn’t pull away. Our fingers intertwined, slowly, naturally, like they were always meant to fit that way. The bond surged, warm and alive, threading through me until my chest ached with it.

“Zara,” he murmured, my name sounding like a vow on his tongue, “I don’t know how we survived everything. The trials. The lies. The… the ways we hurt each other. But I know one thing. I don’t want to live a life where you’re not by my side.”

His words cut through me, sharp and soft at once. I wanted to believe them, to lean into them, to drown in the safety of them. But my heart still bore scars—even ones I now knew weren’t truly his fault. My mother’s manipulations had twisted my memories, made me believe Jace had shattered me when, in truth, he had been fighting his own battles. Still, the phantom ache of that betrayal lingered.

I swallowed hard. “There are things I can’t forget. Things I thought you did. Things that still haunt me, even if I know now they weren’t real.”

His grip on my hand tightened, gentle but firm. “Then let me fight those ghosts with you. Let me prove to you every single day that I’ll never be the man those lies made me out to be.”

The sincerity in his voice broke something open inside me. My chest trembled with a sigh I hadn’t realized I was holding. I wanted to tell him everything—about the nights I cried alone, about the moments I hated him without reason, about the fear that even now, I wasn’t enough. But instead, I leaned closer until our foreheads touched.

The bond flared between us, brighter than I’d ever felt. It wasn’t just warmth anymore—it was light, spreading through my veins, anchoring me. My wolf stirred inside, restless, drawn to the strength of it. And beneath that… something else. A deeper fire. The dragon in me, coiled, whispering of flight and destruction I didn’t fully understand.

“I’m scared, Jace,” I admitted, voice trembling against his lips. “Not of you. Never of you. But of me. Of what I’m becoming. I can barely control my wolf some days, and now… now there’s the dragon too. What if I lose myself? What if I hurt you? Or worse, what if I like it?”

His eyes searched mine, steady and unflinching. “Then I’ll be there to pull you back. Every time. No matter how far you go.”

I wanted to laugh at the simplicity of it, but tears pricked my eyes instead. He made it sound so easy—like love alone could keep the fire from consuming me.

“You don’t know what dragons are,” I said with a shaky laugh, trying to lighten the weight pressing on us. “Wolves, yes. But dragons? That’s… that’s another world entirely.”

He smirked softly, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. “So teach me. Or better yet—let me learn alongside you. I don’t care if it’s wolves or dragons or anything in between. If it’s part of you, then it’s part of me too.”

The sincerity in his tone left me breathless. He meant it. Every word. And yet…

“Zarek,” I whispered, the name heavy on my tongue.

Jace’s body stiffened ever so slightly, though he didn’t let go of my hand. His eyes darkened, not with anger, but with something more complicated.

“He’s the only one who truly understands what it means,” I admitted. “The dragon side. The power. If anyone could help me master it, it’s him. But…” I trailed off, biting my lip.

“But?” Jace pressed, his voice quieter now.

“But asking him would be selfish,” I said finally, staring at the ground. “He’s already given me so much, stood by me when I didn’t deserve it. I can’t keep leaning on him when I’m supposed to stand on my own.”

The silence that followed was heavy, but not hostile. Jace absorbed my words, the way he always did—listening, processing, rather than reacting with jealousy or bitterness.

When he spoke, his voice was steady. “Maybe it’s not about selfishness, Zara. Maybe it’s about survival. About knowing when you need help, and having the courage to ask for it. Even if that help comes from someone I’d rather not share you with.”

I blinked at him, startled. “You’d be okay with that?”

His mouth curved in a wry, almost bitter smile. “No. I’d hate every second of it. But if it keeps you safe—if it keeps you here with me—then yes. I’d be okay with it.”

Something inside me broke at that. Not in a painful way, but in the way walls crumble when you finally realize you don’t need them anymore. 

I laughed through the tears that slipped down my cheeks, shaking my head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He leaned closer, pressing his lips to my temple. “Maybe. But I’m yours.”

I closed my eyes, letting myself feel it—the warmth, the safety, the inevitability of us. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t running from it.

Maybe, just maybe, I could stop running altogether.