Page 4 of A Spark in the Ash

I turn away from them all and make my way down the hall.

I stop in front of the vault.

Jaxon is sitting on the floor with his back propped up against the far wall. His arms are wrapped around his shins, his forehead resting on them.

He’s still engulfed in flames and light, but this is the calmest I’ve seenhimsince he manifested.

For just a second, hope surges in my chest.

Maybe we are finally reaching the end of this madness.

But his head suddenly snaps up. In his eyes, I see that look of conflict once more.

I watch as his hands grip harder around his legs. His fingers dig deeply into his skin. His jaw clenches tight.

It’s not the reaction I would have hoped for, but it’s something. He isn’t raging like a lunatic or yelling in that terrifying sonic ring. He’s trying to control it, I can tell.

His fingers dig deeper into his skin as he struggles with his instincts.

I realize now that he’s completely naked. Not that anyone can see anything. He’s glowing so bright I can barely make out any details of his body.

But with his manifestation and the literal heat and flames that danced on his body, he burned all of his clothes off weeks ago.

He should be starving to death. He should have died of dehydration more than a week ago.

But the laws of nature are not the same when in guardian form.

I press both of my palms into the glass, leaning into it. I rest my forehead there.

I want to dissolve through it and go in that vault. I want to wrap my arms around Jaxon and whisper in his ear that things are going to be okay. I want to settle into his lap and run my fingers through his wild hair. I want his lips to brush against my throat.

But I can’t do that right now. One or both of us would be dead in twenty seconds. We’d destroy the entire compound in the fight.

“Jaxon,” I say, even as my heart aches, “you’re mine. I’m yours. And it has to be enough.”

He’d said those words to me twice that night before everything led to this. It wasn’t a promise. I’d begged him not to make me any promises. But those words were a prayer. It was the both of us begging the dark to let us have some happiness, for once in our lives.

Jaxon holds my gaze, and I see as his breathing grows harder, faster. His nostrils flare, and it’s a physical thing to see how hard he’s struggling.

I slide my right hand up the glass, imagining it is his chest I’m touching instead. I turn my head slightly, imagining it is his warm skin I’m leaning against.

It isn’t just his physical touch I miss. Though the chemistry between us is electrifying.

It’s him. I miss talking to him. I miss feeling like he understands me. That I can be myself around him. I’m not always the best person. I don’t always make the right choices.

Jaxon understands me in a way no other person in either verse does.

“Please try,” I say softly as I stare at him.

He breathes harder, his eyes intense as he holds my gaze. His shoulders heave up and down. His hands shake.

I feel like I’m watching a bomb that is half a second from exploding.

“Serena.”

My head whips to the side. Ascelin stands there, his brows furrowed, his eyes intense.

I stand straight, letting one hand drop away from the glass. When I look back at Jaxon, I note that he’s sitting a little straighter, his eyes cast in Ascelin’s general direction, though he can’t see him right now.

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