Chapter 56: Finnick

Hecate POV

The embrace lasted longer than it should have.

I stood in the cold afternoon light, my arms wrapped around a man I had once loved, a man who had once shattered me, a man who had spent three years trying to piece together the fragments of my broken trust.

Finnick. My first mate. My first heartbreak. The boy who had grown up beside me, promised me forever, and then traded me for power when my wolf did not come.

And yet, here he was. Holding me. And I was not pushing him away.

Three years ago, when Samantha fled Emberclaw Castle in the dead of night, she had stumbled through the rogue forest with nothing but fear and a handful of hope.

Finnick had found her on the border, half frozen, barely conscious. He had been banished by then, stripped of his rank, his wolf, his identity. He had nothing. And he had given her everything.

He had built her a fire. He had found her food. He had protected her from the rogues that stalked the darkness. He had carried Tori when her ankle gave out and carried Samantha when her legs would not stop shaking. He had been the ally she never expected and the redemption she never asked for.

It had taken me years to forgive him. Even now, the scars of his betrayal lingered. But I had learned to see him as something other than the villain of my past. A flawed man. A broken man. A man who had lost everything and was trying, clumsily, to become something better.

"Finnick," I said, pulling back from the embrace. "Out here. In the open. It is not safe."

He looked down at me, his face half hidden by the hood of his cloak. The left side of his face was disfigured, a mass of scar tissue that pulled at his eye and twisted his mouth into a permanent grimace.

The wounds Maddox had given him, in his fury, in his misguided attempt to avenge me, had never fully healed. Without his wolf, Finnick was barely more than human. His body could not repair itself the way a wolf's could. The scars would never fade.

"Nowhere is safe," he said, his voice rough. "Not for me. Not for you."

I took his hand and led him inside the apothecary. The old blind woman who ran the shop knew me well. She trusted me. She turned a blind eye to my comings and goings, to the secrets I carried, to the people I brought into her back room.

We settled onto the wooden benches against the wall, the shelves of dried herbs and glass jars surrounding us like a forest of remedies and poisons.

Finnick reached up and touched his scarred cheek, a habit he had developed over the years. "I came to warn you."

"Warn me about what?"

"Maddox." His grey eyes, the same eyes I had stared into a thousand times as a child, were serious. "He is not stable. The curse, the guilt, the obsession. He is a storm waiting to break. And when he discovers who you really are..."

"I am Hecate," I said, my voice firmer than I felt. "Samantha is dead. She died in the rogue forest three years ago."

Finnick shook his head. "You can change your face. You can change your scent. You can change your name. But you cannot change your bond. He feels it. Even if he does not understand what he is feeling, he feels it. And when he finally puts the pieces together..."

"He will not." I spoke over him, cutting off the sentence I did not want to hear. "I have been careful. The mask is strong. The spell is strong."

"Spells can break."

"Then I will cast it again."

Finnick was silent for a moment. His scarred hand reached across the space between us and covered mine. His touch was warm, familiar, and I let it rest there for a heartbeat longer than I should have.

"You came back to him," Finnick said quietly. "After everything. After what he did to you. After what he let Odette do. You came back to his castle. You sleep in his bed. You heal his wife. You are falling for him again."

I pulled my hand back. "That is not..."

"Do not lie to me. I know you, Samantha. I knew you before you were Hecate. I knew you when you were a girl who believed in love and happy endings and the goodness of people." His voice cracked. "I know the way your heart works. And I know you are falling."

I looked away, staring at the jars of dried lavender on the shelf across from me. "What I feel for him is complicated."

"What you feel for him is the bond. It is not real."

"It is real enough."

Finnick sighed, a heavy, weary sound. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. The scars on his face pulled at the skin, making him look older than his years.

"I am not the one who should be saying this," he said. "I have no right. I hurt you worse than anyone. I broke your heart before Maddox ever touched it."

"That was a long time ago."

"Was it?" He opened his eyes and looked at me. "Because I still remember every detail. The way you looked at me when I chose Carmen. The way your face crumbled. The way you walked away without begging, without crying, without giving me the satisfaction of seeing you break."

I swallowed hard. "I cried later."

"I know." He reached for my hand again, and this time I let him hold it. "I heard you. Through the bond. For weeks after you rejected me, I felt your pain. It was the worst punishment I could have imagined."

"Finnick..."

"I am not telling you this to make you feel sorry for me." His grip tightened. "I am telling you because I know what it is like to love someone and lose them. I know what it is like to look back and realize you threw away something precious for something worthless."

I nodded slowly. "And what do you want me to take from that?"

He looked at me, his grey eyes soft. "I want you to be careful. Not with your magic. Not with your secrets. With your heart."

I did not answer. I could not.

He reached up and touched my face, his scarred fingers brushing against my cheek. It was a gesture of tenderness, of longing, of a love that had transformed into something else. Something quieter. Something sadder.

"Do you remember the summer we turned sixteen?" he asked. "Before your wolf was supposed to come. We sat in the orchard and you dared me to eat a whole lemon. I did it. My face was so sour I could not speak for an hour."

I laughed softly. "You were an idiot."

"I was in love." He smiled, the scars pulling at the corner of his mouth. "I am still in love. But I know that does not matter. I know that what we had is gone. I have accepted that."

"Finnick..."

"I am not asking for anything." He let his hand fall. "I am only saying that I remember. And that I am grateful you let me stay in your life. As a friend. As someone who helps with Isaac when you cannot be there."

I thought of my son. Of his golden eyes and dark curls. Of the way he looked at Finnick with trust and affection. Finnick had been there for Isaac when I could not be. He had taught the boy to throw a ball and carve a wooden wolf and count the stars at night.

"You are a good friend," I said. "That is all I can offer you."

Finnick nodded, his expression resigned. "I know."

We sat in silence for a while, the weight of the past pressing down on us both. Then he stood and straightened his cloak.

"I should go," he said. "The longer I stay near the castle, the greater the risk."

"Where will you go?"

"Back to the cottage. Tori will be wondering where I have gone." He paused at the door, looking back at me. "Be careful, Hecate. With Maddox. With your heart. You have too much to lose to be careless."

I rose and followed him to the door. "Finnick."

He turned.

"Thank you. For coming. For caring. For everything."

He smiled, a ghost of the boy I had once known. Then he pulled his hood over his scarred face and slipped out into the street. I watched him disappear into the crowd, my chest heavy with old memories and complicated feelings.

I had forgiven him. I had learned to trust him again. But I could not love him. Not the way he wanted. Not the way I once had.

That part of my heart belonged to someone else now. Even if that someone else did not know it. Even if that someone else might destroy me when he learned the truth.

I turned back into the apothecary, gathered my herbs, and prepared to return to the castle. To Maddox. To the life I had chosen, with all its risks and secrets and impossible hopes.

Finnick was right about one thing. I had too much to lose to be careless.

But I had too much to gain to walk away.