Page 58 of Shattered Obsession

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force it away, but the past doesn’t need permission to reappear. Damian didn’t just violate my body; he rewired my instincts.

Fight.

Freeze.

Comply.

My lungs misfire.

“Hey. Come back,” he pleads.

I swallow hard.

“I hate that he can still reach me, even when he’s nowhere near me,” I admit.

“I was ready to kill him.” His voice drops lower, rougher. “I didn’t care about anything except getting him away from you. I didn’t care who saw. I didn’t care what happened to me.”

He runs a hand through his hair, leaving a streak of dried blood across his temple.

“That scares me,” he confesses.

I’ve seen Xander angry before—sharp, protective, territorial.

But this is different.

This is vulnerable.

“I don’t want to be someone who loses control,” he murmurs.

“I didn’t lose control of you,” I whisper back.

His eyes lock to mine, something unspoken passing between us.

“You grounded me.”

“I know.” My heart races at the thought as I wrap the gauze carefully around his injuries to secure them. “That’s why I had to stop you.”

He leans back against the couch, scrubbing his uninjured hand over his face, as if trying to wipe away the memories of the violence.

“I don’t regret it, Thalia. Not one punch. But if I’d killed him, if I’d lost you to prison instead of him…” His voice cracks, filled with a vulnerability that terrifies me, revealing the depth of his feelings. “That scares me.”

Xander’s throat works around a swallow, and I can see the adrenaline leaving him, the crash hitting hard. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the bandages I wrapped around his hands.

“I didn’t even feel the hits when they landed. Not until now.” He shakes his head, jaw tight. “All I could think about was you and the suffering he forced upon you. I wasn’t thinking about consequences. Or witnesses. Or the fact that I’d ruin everything we finally have.” When he looks up, there’s something raw in his eyes. “I wasn’t fighting him. I was destroying him.”

“You’re here. I’m here. That’s all that matters tonight,” I assure him, hoping to ease the weight of his fears. But my brain hasn’t caught up with my words.

The lamplight feels too bright. Every sound is sharp and distant at the same time, like I’m underwater and wired with electricity. I touch the couch cushion beside me just to feel texture, something real. The fabric is coarse beneath my fingertips.

Grounding.

One thing after another.

Couch. Xander’s breath. The faint hum of the refrigerator.

Focus, Thalia. You’re here.

A soft brush against my knee brings me back. Xander isn’t touching me, not fully, just letting his knuckles rest near my skin. A silent offer, not a demand. The difference shouldn’t make tears build in my throat, but it does.