Aysel's POV My throat was raw, voice caught somewhere between human and wolf. I stood there for a few heartbeats, letting the storm outside drum against my senses, before finally speaking. "Magnus... it's time to come home." The sound, carried on the rain and wind, reached him. That statue-like figure-silent, immobile, like a corpse-stirred. His sharp, sculpted features lifted, eyes black as midnight, cold and predatory, locking on me as if I were a trespassing prey foolish enough to step into his territory. I moved forward, leaving the corridor's warm amber glow behind me, my feet stepping into the darkness, drawn to the beast waiting in the shadows. He didn't speak. His gaze followed my every movement, precise, calculating, still as death and yet alive with the promise of unspoken force. I skirted shards of glass scattered across the floor, the rain gusting in through the broken window, and finally, I stood before him. "Magnus... come home with me." I spoke again, the tremor in my voice betraying my wolf's tension. Then I knelt slowly, one knee on the cold, wet floor, leaning into him without hesitation. My arms wrapped around him, pulling him close amid the chaos. We held each other in that silence, minutes stretching like eternity. Our soaked forms pressed together offered no warmth-yet there was a strange grounding in it, a sense that even amid destruction, we could exist. In the dark waters of the storm, he was the only driftwood I could grasp. "Why are you crying?" His voice was hoarse, edged with a gentleness I had almost forgotten existed, and his dark pupils flickered with the first hint of life. He pulled me back slightly, thumb brushing the wet streaks along my cheek. I realized my face was streaked with tears, unbidden. Ridiculous. Even when the Moonvale Pack had forced me to burn my grandmother's home, I hadn't cried. I ducked my face back into his neck, clinging to him, hiding my shame. "It's not crying... it's the rain," I muttered, trying to mask the truth. His large hands settled on me-one on my waist, the other stroking the nape of my neck. "Alright... it's the rain."I stayed pressed against him, silent for a moment, before whispering, "I... I was just scared. So many venomous snakes... I was afraid." "Good girl," he murmured. "We'll kill them. All of them. Together." I nodded, heart still racing. "How did you get here?" he asked, adjusting so I was shielded behind him. After Anna sent the photos, he'd moved to ensure I was safe. I should have been in my room, resting. The timing... something had gone wrong. Or perhaps, not wrong at all-the wolves sent had been a step behind. Tonight, the old estate had been too chaotic; Anna's lure partially worked, but by the time the others reached the main hall, I was gone. Even if I had gotten into that car, Magnus' pack could intercept it. I leaned into his chest, murmuring, "I asked Anna." He paused, fingers brushing through my damp hair. "Are you hurt?" I shook my head. Then my eyes flicked to him. "And you? She said... you were poisoned." "I'm fine," he replied, though his wolf-side flared, senses tingling with residue from the toxins. The doses Anna used were potent; he felt the raw surge of destructive impulse clawing at him. Only his control-his restraint-kept him from tearing through the estate immediately. I didn't trust that entirely. I pushed myself upright, examining him carefully. The marks were subtle-snake blood on his arms, shallow cuts along his forearm where he had let glass pierce the skin to stay awake. My eyes stung at the sight. Even though he seemed accustomed to pain, I felt it for him. "How long... if I hadn't come, how long would you have stayed here?" He didn't answer, only chuckling softly. "And you cry again." If I hadn't arrived, he would have nursed his wounds alone until the poison faded, perhaps even spilling blood from the pawns Anna had sent to test him. His fingers found my face again, long and rough, and he teased, "Little Rose has turned into a little crybaby." Then, suddenly, his expression shifted, noticing the blood on his hands. The lightning outside revealed it-streaks of crimson across my face, smeared like a careless mask. I pressed my hand over his, lowering my head, and placed a gentle kiss into the palm.