19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

F ury

The wind claws at my skin, icy and merciless. Snow pelts my face, blinding and numbing, but the physical discomfort barely registers. All that exists is the ache in my chest, the gaping void of hurt and betrayal threatening to swallow me whole.

How could she keep this from me? After everything we've shared, every tentative step toward affection and understanding? I trusted her with pieces of my past, shards of pain I've never exposed to anyone. And yet she couldn't give me the same courtesy, couldn't find a way to tell me that her own father was one of the monsters who tortured me—the one in charge.

A snarl rips from my throat, primal and raw. My fists clench at my sides, claws digging into my palms hard enough to draw blood. The urge to lash out, to howl my fury to the uncaring sky, pulses through me like a living thing.

But beneath the anger, the sense of betrayal, there's something else. A quieter, more insistent voice whispering that I'm being unfair. That Tally isn't her father, that she can't be held accountable for his sins .

She was a child when those experiments were happening, innocent and oblivious. How could she have known? How could she have stopped it?

And the way she looked at me when she finally confessed, the anguish and regret etched into every line of her face… that wasn't the look of someone relishing my pain. It was the look of someone who genuinely cared, who feared losing me, losing this fragile, nameless thing blossoming between us.

My pace slows, the blinding rage fading into something duller, hollower. Tally's been nothing but kind, compassionate, and open with me from the start. She's seen me at my worst, my most broken, and she hasn't flinched. Instead, she's met me with unwavering empathy and acceptance. And what we shared in our bed earlier today, what explains that other than a connection that's bigger than something that happened a quarter of a century ago?

Can I really throw that away, discard this precious, tentative bond, because of actions she had no part in? Am I truly prepared to lose her, to go back to the cold, numb existence I endured before she crashed into my life?

The answer rises in my throat, lodging there like a stone. No. No, I'm not ready to let her go, no matter how much the past claws at me. There's something real between us, something worth fighting for.

Something that feels perilously close to… no. I can't put a name to it, can't let myself hope for more than I deserve. But whatever this is, this warmth and light and fierce, protective affection… I'm not willing to surrender it.

My steps halt, the realization hitting like a bolt of clarity amid the swirling chaos. I have to go back. Back to the cabin, back to Tally, back to the promise of something more.

The Goddess's gift of greater strength and speed that struck me when I left the cabin will get me back there in record time.

Despite the thick, heavy snow and my earlier fatigue, I run as fast as the swiftest kerlings back on An'Wa. My heart nearly stops when I hear Tally's voice calling to me through the howling wind.

"Tally?" Is she outside? In this blizzard?

I race toward the sound. Even with my enhanced abilities, I push myself to my limits… and beyond. With every step I take, her scent grows stronger. It's filled with sadness and terror. Guilt crashes over me like a tidal wave. This is all my fault.

I howl, long and deep, so she can hear me even over the wind. So she can know I'm coming for her. I pray I get to her in time. It's deadly out here and she only left the warmth of the cabin because of my temper.