"I'm already standing at the very edge of level nine," Jasper said quietly. His voice remained steady, controlled, yet the gravity beneath his words was impossible to miss. "My mental power is unstable—dangerously so." He drew in a slow breath. "And you're only level four."
He fell silent for a moment, fingers curling in on themselves at his side, as if the thought alone caused him physical pain. The tension in his posture spoke louder than any raised voice ever could.
"I never dared ask you to perform mental comfort for me," he went on, his tone low and deliberate. "If I lost control—even for a single heartbeat—I could have drained your powers completely." His jaw tightened. "I couldn't take that risk. Not with you."
He lifted his gaze to Rory then, dark eyes holding back a storm of restrained emotion—fear, devotion, and something far deeper than either.
