Page 204 of Intense
Song- can you see me in the dark? Halestorm,
I Prevail.
Ifeel his presence without needing my eyes.
His breathing. That sharp, controlled rhythm I’ve learned to read like a language. The way my body reacts to him without permission.
Nyx has loosened even further around my throat, her body heavy but no longer threatening.
That moment she settled there, I thought it was over, that she’d keep tightening until there was nothing left.
But she didn’t.
She accepted me. And I accepted her.
I understand now why Finn trusts her. She’s like him, calculating, reading every detail, and assessing in ways most people could never comprehend.
“Finn,” I whisper.
I flinch when his fingers brush my cheek, but the instinct fades, and I lean into his touch.
“You passed.”
The air leaves my lungs in a long, shaky exhale, as if he’s just cut a dead weight from my shoulders.
“H-how did you know she wouldn’t kill me?”
I can feel the grin in his voice without even seeing it.
“Because I wouldn’t have let her.”
My heart thunders as he pulls the blindfold up. Light floods my vision, making me blink until my eyes lock on his.
There’s life there again. That cold, brutal mask is gone.
“How does it feel?” His fingers trail slowly down my arms, tracing the edge between comfort and possession.
“Perfect,” I answer. And it’s the truth. Not to win his forgiveness, not to impress him. I would make the same choices again.
Maybe in hindsight, I’d have told him sooner. I’d have stopped trying to figure out everything by myself and let him in, instead of fighting him. But I don’t want him to love some fake version of me.
The truth is a relief. His acceptance is all I want. Not to be boxed in as the perfect wife. Not to be fixed.
I’m not broken.
I’ve been hurt. I’ve been hunted. But I fought my way to here.
“Is the trial over?”
He bends down on one knee, removing the chains on my ankles. When he stands, he kicks my legs apart and steps between them, heat radiating through me. Nyx’s weight against my neck keeps me rooted in the reminder that she’s still there.
His hands slide up my thighs.
“Do you want it to be over,” he murmurs, “or do you want a final trial?”
His palm stops at my hip.
“Do you forgive me?” I ask.
