Warner stood at the edge of the sterile, white lab, his arms crossed, the weight of his role as Regent pressing down on him. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic, the faint hum of machinery filling the silence. You sat across from him, your arms tense at your sides, your gaze wary but unyielding.

“Again,” he commanded, his voice calm but cold, a mask that rarely faltered.

You hesitated, your chest tightening as you stared at your hands. The air around you crackled with energy, a power you barely controlled and one you feared would destroy anyone who came too close. I don’t want to hurt you you said softly, but there was steel beneath your words.

“You won’t,” he said, stepping closer. “You can’t.”

His voice had softened, the faintest flicker of vulnerability slipping through the cracks of his usually impassive demeanor. With a breath, you reached out, your fingers trembling as they grazed his.

And nothing happened.

The deadly energy you carried dissipated the moment your skin met his. His power—his curse—took it all, leaving you powerless and, for once, unafraid.

“See?” he said, his voice quieter now, almost gentle. “I told you.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, your hand still in his. Aaron Warner: ruthless, calculating, heartless to the world. But here, with you, there was something else. Something that burned in his gaze when he looked at you, something you didn’t know how to name.

To the world, he was a monster. To you, he was the one person who made you feel human.

And maybe, to him, you were the only thing that made him feel alive.