I grip him like a lifeline, nails marking his skin as I fight the spiral.

"I'm here, Len. I got you. Now just keep breathing in and out for me." His voice anchors me, each word deliberate and sure.

Gradually, the panic recedes, leaving me hollow but steady.

Tears spill unbidden, but Nate brushes them away with tender thumbs before grabbing his Guns and Roses shirt off the ground and dressing me in it.

"Lay down," he whispers, guiding me to the bed like something precious. He cradles me against his bare chest where I fit perfectly, arms wrapping around me, lips pressing against my hair. Everything about him feels like coming home.

“I’m… I’m sorry," I choke out, but he shakes his head fiercely.

"Don't," he says firmly. "Don't ever apologize for something that makes you uncomfortable. Not to me. Not to anyone."

There’s no stopping the tears from falling once they start, so I let them while he settles beside me. His fingers find my hair, stroking gently like he used to when we were kids and sleep eluded me. The familiar gesture pulls me back to simpler times, before life complicated everything.

As sleep tugs at my consciousness, I feel his fingers drawing on my back—soft, deliberate patterns. A heart, then the initials N + L inside it.

I drift between sleeping and waking, his warmth keeping the nightmares at bay. Through the haze, I hear his voice, low and aching.

"Who hurt you this badly?"

The name rises like poison to my lips.

Evan.

It slips out, a whisper I never meant to voice.

His sharp inhale follows me into darkness.

50. Where Shadows Meet

CHAPTER 50

WHERE SHADOWS MEET

NATE

I lay in the dark, Nora's body curled into mine, her breath warm against my neck. It should calm me—but it wrecks me.

She's wrapped around me like she belongs here. Her thigh slung over mine, fingers against my chest like an anchor. Every curve pressed against me brands itself into my skin.

Her mouth on mine.

Her legs trembling.

Her gasps like broken prayers.

That look in her eyes when I told her to keep them on me—fuck, that look.

It wasn't just lust. It was something deeper.

She looked at me like I was her only tether to earth. And briefly, I believed I could be that.

Steady. Safe. Enough.

But I'm not.

My mind loops endlessly—her mouth on my neck, her voice cracking when she said I'd ruined her long before tonight. The way she trusted me completely, falling apart in my arms without fear or shame.

I didn't deserve any of it.

She sleeps beside me now, breathing easily like we didn't just shatter every boundary. Not because she didn't want it—but because she deserves better than what I am. I stare at the ceiling while shadows dance like ghosts of all my former selves. And still, she trusts me with her silence.

With her body.