The gentle creak of the chair echoed softly as he knelt before her, a sight Siobhan had once dreamed of, back when having him on his knees meant something entirely different. Now, the mixed emotions on his face stirred a turbulent mix of feelings within her. She knew the anger simmering beneath his surface was directed at Discord—or perhaps at himself, for he was the type to shoulder blame even when it wasn't his to bear. The pain in his eyes, despite the scant details she had shared, warned her that revealing more would only deepen that hurt. Yet, it was the longing in his gaze that caught her off guard the most. There was no pity there, only a genuine desire to have her by his side. This realization sent a pang through her chest, as she suddenly recognized how blind she had been to his love. Had it taken being torn from herself to finally see it? Their arguments in the past months, fueled by her attempts to change him, seemed so foolish now. He had never been a man of words but rather of actions, and she had been too blind to appreciate that.

His hand enveloped both of hers, warm and comforting, like a cup of coffee on a cold morning. The roughness of his thumb, a testament to years of training and fighting, sent a shiver up her spine. Her body responded instinctively to his touch. As his other hand cupped her face, she felt a sense of safety she hadn't experienced in what felt like an eternity. His fingers slipped into her hair with such gentleness, offering her the chance to pull away, to tell him to leave. But that was the last thing she wanted. When his words came, low and certain, tears sprang to her eyes, grounding her with their sincerity. She leaned into the warmth of his hand on her cheek, cherishing the fleeting comfort before he withdrew.

“I...I want your help,” she whispered, her voice tinged with vulnerability. “But once you see what was done, you’ll want to hunt them down. Still, it wasn’t entirely their fault. They thought I consented to the torture,” she explained, her grip on his hand weak but earnest. She hated for him to see her like this—fragile and wounded—but if she couldn't be vulnerable with him after all they'd been through, when could she be? “Maybe the outside shower would be better.” Then she won’t have to see his reaction in the mirror, knowing that she couldn’t spare him the sight of her scars, hidden beneath her clothing.

A small smile broke through her sorrow as he made a lighthearted remark, his clear lie causing her heart to skip a beat. “And without my Nephilim strength, I guess it was best to leave them be and not risk pulling a muscle, huh?” she teased back, a flash of vibrant purple flickering in her eyes before the mention of Rissa darkened her mood. Memories of Rissa's visit, the bitter arguments—both physical and verbal—played in her mind,one week Dominic was off tending to Guard duty. “She might have burned it all by now,” Siobhan sighed. Her voice carried the weight of regret. “We weren’t on good terms when she came by, not with Discord controlling me.” She hoped he understood that Discord had sought to destroy anything that brought her comfort.

As he finally took a bite of bacon, the groan of pleasure he emitted made her smile. She returned to her meal, savoring the small triumph that she could still bring him joy through her cooking. “Space is the last thing I want when it comes to you and me,” she confessed, her eyes tracing his familiar features with renewed appreciation. “But if I get overwhelmed, I promise to let you know.” She wanted him to know that she was committed to being open about her needs, no more hiding or shielding feelings—not with him.

After finishing her meal, she let Fluffy clean the plate. “Can we visit Billie Mae after I clean up?” she asked, surprised that Billie hadn’t appeared during their meal. Billie Mae had a knack for showing up, but perhaps she was giving them space to reconnect after their long separation. Siobhan reached out, letting her hand rest gently on his wrist, allowing him the choice to pull away if he wished. “I'll grab the towels; you get a change of clothes. I’ll meet you at the outdoor shower.” She moved to place her dish in the sink, then headed to the bathroom to retrieve the towels.

Pausing at the door, fear gripped her momentarily. What if this was all just a dream, and opening the door would shatter it? After a deep breath, she turned the handle, and was greeted by the purply-pink hues of the morning sunrise. The fresh air, warm and inviting, brushed against her cheeks, dispelling her fears as she stepped from the cabin to the outdoor showers.

The water always surprised her with its warmth, a mystery she attributed to Dominic's ingenuity. As she turned the knob, Yaya's howls announced their presence, a familiar comfort. She slipped off her shorts and underwear, wincing at the pain that radiated up her back, setting her clothes on the bench she had built—a place where she would sit and chat while Dominic showered after working on vehicles or other dirty tasks.

Standing there, she envisioned her younger self, carefree in a sundress, weaving crowns from wildflowers. Her reverie was broken by the sound of the cabin door closing, echoing through the tranquil therian woods. Her shirt hung just low enough to graze her mid-thigh. When Dominic joined her, she bit her lower lip, apprehensive yet trusting. “My shoulders, back, and wings are a mess. Can you help me out of this?” she asked, granting him permission to assist her.

As he carefully helped her out of the shirt, she winced occasionally at the discomfort, but with his help the task was over quickly. Once she stood bare before him, she knew his eyes would take in every scar that marred her skin—marks from knives, tasers, and needle punctures, remnants of unknown substances Discord would fill her with. She turned away, stepping under the shower to hide from his gaze, fearing the reflection of his emotions would unravel her.

The scars on her back narrated a haunting tale of torment, each mark a testament to the unthinkable pain she had endured. Her wing scars, once symbols of freedom and grace, bore deep gashes, as if slashed by blades or other cruel implements. The memory of that unearthly agony lingered in her bones, a ghostly echo of the suffering she had faced. Her skin was a canvas of survival, marked by the brutal strikes of countless whips, some tipped with blades, leaving jagged lines that traced a chaotic path from her neck to the base of her spine. These scars were in various stages of healing, some fresh and raw, others fading into silvery reminders of resilience.

As the warm water cascaded over her body, she instinctively flinched, her mind momentarily deceived into expecting the burn of acid instead of the gentle embrace of water. But she forced herself to relax, to trust the soothing warmth that enveloped her, washing away the tension that clung to her muscles. She let the water flow over her, each droplet a small balm against the ache that resided in her soul. In that moment, she allowed herself to embrace the promise of healing, a tentative step toward reclaiming the strength and peace that had been so cruelly stolen from her.

Water flowed around them, a soothing force symbolizing renewal, washing away negativity and burdens. Yet Siobhan felt, deep within, that no amount of water could ever cleanse the weight she carried. Ever since that night she had ventured out to confront the beast that had taken her brother and father, she had been navigating life in a haze, guided by her tumultuous emotions. Among the chaos, the most unexpected joy had been falling into Dominic’s world. Even if he didn’t trust her then, she had been blissfully naive. She cast a glance toward the spot where he would be standing just past the shower wall, a flutter of hope rising in her chest. Did he remember that night? Did he ever regret caring for her? She would never regret it; it had ignited passions in her she never knew existed, all thanks to him.

In the depths of her heart, Siobhan recognized that hindsight was a tricky beast, yet she couldn't help but dwell on the doubts that had crept in—doubts about what she truly was to him before. As she reached out and placed her hand against the wood where he stood, she reflected on the family she had built in Evermore. She had taken their love for granted, assuming they would turn away from her. The desire to make amends surged within her, though uncertainty loomed. Her hand trembled as she pulled it back, burying her face in her hands, inhaling deeply to push away the haunting memories of the pain she had caused those she loved—Dominic, Clarissa, Kaelyn, and others. Confidence in her ability to make things right wavered, but she knew she could start with Billie Mae, the one person she believed would be least likely to resent her.

Dominic had reassured her that Billie Mae wanted to see her, but he had also warned her that he would revoke her ability to pop in whenever she pleased if she didn’t stay away for now. Part of her was grateful for his guidance; it allowed her to decide when to step out of her self-imposed isolation. The thought of Billie Mae’s eagerness to see her warmed her heart, reminding her of the unwavering kindness the woman had always shown. As her gaze fell upon the scars along her arms and legs, she lightly traced the scar that ran along her lower stomach. She had no doubt Billie Mae would have something ready to help fade most of those marks, but that particular scar would always remain a part of her story.

The silence stretched, and Siobhan sensed Dominic keeping his Therin side in check for her sake. Her empathic abilities reached out, picking up on the anger and tension that radiated from him—an expected reaction. “I’d really like you to stick around,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. “But I’m not sure I’m ready for tools or sharp things just yet.” The weight of her confession hung in the air, and memories of blades stained with her blood flickered in her mind. She shook her head, trying to dispel those intrusive thoughts.

“How are the aspects doing? Ery?” she asked, eager to steer the conversation toward lighter territory. It had been far too long since she had seen the aspect of death, and she realized how much she missed those interactions, especially with how close she was to meeting him on the other side. Tilting her head back under the water, she took her time lathering her hair with shampoo, savoring the sensation as she let the warmth envelop her. She scrubbed her skin with determination, hoping to wash away the remnants of her past. When she finally accepted that some stains were stubborn, she rinsed off and turned off the shower, accepting the towel Dominic offered. “Thanks,” she said with a small smile, drying off quickly and slipping into the oversized shirt he helped her with. His familiar scent wrapped around her, melting away the tension in her shoulders.

Once she was fully dressed, she took a few steps and paused, captivated by the way the wind made the trees sway and the sun bathed everything in a golden glow. She stood there, soaking in the tranquility of nature, almost forgetting how peaceful it felt to be here. “Maybe I could work on a garden,” she mused, a lightness peak in her voice as she leaned down to admire the wildflowers at their feet. “I just want to be out in this—the fresh air, the warmth. It’s…home.”