NOVEL NEXT Chapter 38
Syn's eyes widened, a jolt of shock rippling through him as Aster's question pierced the air—"Was it because I'm the King's daughter? You don't trust me?"—her voice a fragile thread trembling with years of unspoken wounds. That wasn't it—not even close.
Trust had never been the fracture between them; if anything, Aster had spent their youth clawing against her royal blood, her every act a fierce rebellion to prove she stood apart from the Kingdom's shadow. Her insecurity had been a blazing fire, one Syn had watched burn with a mix of awe and unease, her hatred for her father and siblings a deep-rooted scar she wore like armor. He'd never doubted her loyalty—it was her ferocity that had scared him, the way she'd turned against her lineage with a venom that sometimes made him wonder if he'd lit the spark, despite her claims it had always been there.
"You know that's not true," Syn said, his voice firm, cutting through the tension as he met her gaze, his eyes steady despite the storm brewing in his chest. The accusation stung—not because it was right, but because it twisted a truth he'd never voiced.
"Then what is it?" Aster pressed, her grip tightening on his wrists, her fingers digging into his skin with a quiet desperation that belied her strength. Her thighs straddled his, pinning him beneath her on the bed, her towering frame a wall he couldn't push past, her blonde hair spilling forward to frame her tear-brimmed eyes.
Syn drew a slow breath, the air heavy with the weight of her question, the sterile scent of bandages and antiseptic mingling with the warmth of her closeness. "It's just personal," he said, his voice low, deliberate, each word a stone he laid carefully to shield the deeper truth. "It's not about any of you—I got tired of playing pirates. I wanted to face reality. The Kingdom's our home, so I chose to protect it instead of tearing it down." His gaze held hers, steady but guarded, a half-truth spun with the finesse of survival, a mask he'd worn so long it felt like his own skin.
Aster's eyes narrowed, doubt flickering across her face like a shadow across the sun. "Hmm… you're a good liar," she said, her voice softening into a rejected smile, a bittersweet curve that didn't reach her eyes. "Oddly, I can tell when you're lying." She released his wrists, her hands sliding down to rest gently on his stomach, her fingers splaying across the fabric of his shirt. A soft chuckle escaped her, a fragile sound undercut by a sadness that trembled in her chest, her eyes glistening as tears welled up. "I don't know—it's strange. You're right here, in front of me, but still…" Her voice wavered, cracking as she fought to hold it together, her tears spilling free, tracing glistening paths down her cheeks. "You know I can't control my emotions, right?"
Syn nodded faintly, a quiet acknowledgment as he watched her unravel, her vulnerability a stark contrast to the fierce warrior who'd just smoked out shapeshifters with ruthless precision. Her towering strength, her imposing frame—it all crumbled now, revealing the tender core she'd buried beneath years of bravado. "I don't know why," she whispered, her voice fracturing, "but I want to cry. Can I…" Before she could finish, Syn's hands moved, a reflex born of instinct and unspoken care, stretching upward to pull her down. He drew her torso toward him, guiding her head to rest against his chest, her sobs erupting as she collapsed into him, crying like a child despite the power coiled in her limbs.
Her tears soaked through his shirt, warm and relentless, her large frame shuddering with each ragged sob, her hands clutching at his sides as if he might vanish if she let go. Syn tightened his arms around her, his chin resting lightly atop her head, her blonde hair soft against his skin, the faint scent of sweat and steel mingling with the antiseptic air. His heart ached, a dull, insistent throb as her vulnerability seeped into him—her strength, her ferocity, all stripped bare in this moment, leaving only the girl he'd once known, the one who'd chased him through alleys with dice and dreams.
"Hey…" His voice was a soft murmur, a whisper meant only for her, cutting through the quiet hum of the medic room. He shifted, tilting his head to peer down at her tear-streaked face, one hand sliding to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing across her skin with tender, deliberate strokes, wiping away the trails of her grief. Her sobs hitched, her breath catching as she felt the warmth of his touch, a lifeline pulling her from the storm within.
"Look at me, Aster," he said, his voice low, steady, a quiet strength threading through it as he held her gaze, his eyes locking onto hers with an unwavering calm. Her teary eyes lifted, wide and glistening, raw with the emotion she'd kept caged for too long, searching his face for something—truth, reassurance, a crack in the wall he'd built.
"I'm right here," he murmured, his words a gentle anchor, his thumb tracing another tear as it fell. "I'm not going anywhere." His gaze held steady, a promise unspoken yet etched in the quiet intensity of his look, a vow he wasn't sure he could keep but offered anyway—for her, in this moment, to still the trembling fear he felt beneath her grip.
Her breath hitched, her lips quivering as her eyes bore into his, seeking proof in the depths of his hazel stare—a flicker of doubt, a shadow of deceit. She wanted to believe him, needed to, her hands tightening on his shirt, fingers digging into the fabric like it was her last tether to something real. "You can see it, can't you?" he pressed, his voice a soft challenge, his thumb pausing against her cheek. "If I'm lying… am I lying?"
Aster's grip faltered, her hands trembling but firm as they clutched him tighter, a lifeline she couldn't release. She buried her face deeper into his chest, her sobs softening into quiet, shuddering breaths, the steady thud of his heartbeat a rhythm she clung to, grounding her as the storm within ebbed.
Syn held her close, his arms a fortress around her trembling frame, saying nothing more—words felt hollow against the weight of her tears, the rawness of her fear. His presence, his warmth, the unspoken strength in his hold—it was enough, for now, even if doubt lingered in her mind, a whisper that he might be lying again, a truth she couldn't face beneath the comfort of his embrace.
The medic room was silent save for the faint beeps of the machines, the soft breathing of Vera and Pako a distant counterpoint to Aster's quieting sobs. Syn's hand slid to her back, tracing slow, soothing circles as her tears soaked deeper into his shirt, her body pressed against his like a shield against the past she feared reclaiming him. He stared at the ceiling, the sterile tiles blurring as his mind churned—the Kingdom, the pirates, the shapeshifters, the King's relentless hate—all swirling in a storm he couldn't outrun. Yet here, with Aster's weight pinning him, her vulnerability stripping him bare, he felt a tether he hadn't known he'd missed, a pull he couldn't name.
Minutes stretched, the silence a fragile cocoon around them, until Aster's sobs dwindled to soft sniffles, her breath evening out against his chest. She shifted, her hands loosening their grip on his shirt, her tear-streaked face lifting just enough to meet his gaze again, her eyes red-rimmed but steady. "Just so you remember," she whispered, her voice broken yet fierce, a sniffle punctuating each word as she wiped her nose with the back of her hand, "sniff sniff—I won't hesitate to break your legs if you try to run away again."