“Yes,” Morgan answers bluntly. “But not in the way you think.”
Kade’s breathing grows uneven.
The air pressure shifts again.
Asher’s field trembles in response.
I step closer.
“Look at me.”
He does.
His green eyes are rimmed in silver light.
“You’re not broken,” I say quietly. “You’re not unstable. You’re not something to suppress.”
The silver flare softens slightly.
“You’ve been holding this down your entire life,” I continue. “That doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
“It feels wrong,” he whispers. “Like something I wasn’t supposed to have.”
“Because they told you it was.”
Morgan steps in.
“You’ve spent decades damping your field. It’s rebounding.”
“How do I stop it?” Kade asks.
“You don’t,” I answer before Morgan can. “You learn it.”
His gaze locks with mine.
The mate bond thrums
