25- The Price of Survival

By the time we reached the mansion, my legs felt like they were about to give out. I stumbled inside, barely able to keep my balance, but Aiden moved with the same controlled grace as always, even though he was clearly in pain.

“You look like hell,” he muttered, not even turning to look at me as he walked toward the kitchen.

I shot him a glare, though I didn’t have the energy to argue. “Thanks for the compliment.”

Ignoring my sarcasm, Aiden went to the sink and began cleaning the deep gash in his side. I watched him in silence, unsure of what to say. The battle had shaken me more than I wanted to admit, and the weight of everything—the bond, the danger, the constant threat of death—was starting to feel overwhelming.

I needed answers. I needed to understand what was really going on between us.

“We need to talk,” I said, my voice trembling slightly.

Aiden didn’t look at me, his expression hard. “About what?”

“About the bond. About what happened out there,” I said, stepping closer. “I do