EMBER’S POV
He’s quiet for a long moment. Something flickers through his eyes. Pain, maybe. Or fear. The shutters start to come down, that familiar wall rebuilding itself brick by brick.
“I don’t think I’d be a good father,” he says finally.
“Why?”
“The Volkovs weren’t exactly a stable family.” His voice has gone careful. Controlled. “Dysfunction runs in my blood. Literally. I’ve seen what happens when damaged people try to raise children. I refuse to continue that cycle.”
There’s so much more underneath those words. I can feel it. Decades of history I know nothing about.
“What was your family like?” I ask softly.
He chuckles, but there’s no humor in it.
“You really don’t get enough, do you? Always pushing. Always wanting more.”
“You’re so closed off,” I admit. “Every time I think
