Page 129 of Emylia

His breath stirred against my hair, steady, quiet, like the last thread keeping me tethered to a world already falling apart. And when I finally looked up at him—really looked—his eyes weren’t furious anymore.

They were wrecked.

Soft honey, tinged with ruin.

Then, without a word, he kissed me.

No pretense.

No hesitation.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was heartbreak, stripped raw and trembling, a promise he didn’t dare say out loud. It was everything. It was too much. It was the kind of kiss that said I still want you—even if it destroys me.

When I kissed him back, it wasn’t clarity I found. It was him—flesh and flame and everything I could still feel when the rest of me had gone numb.

Fierce.

Familiar.

Forgiving.

Wrapped in silence and secrets and everything we didn't say because we knew it would break us. I melted into it like I was made for him. He held me like I was breakable, but kissed me like he knew I could shatter him too.

Eventually, when the world grew too quiet, he gathered me into his arms, lifting me like I was something fragile–something worth holding on to. Then he carried me to the bed, and climbed in beside me, pulling me close, like I was the only thing that could quiet the storm inside him.

His heart was a steady beat against my cheek, his hand tangled in my hair, wrapping around my heart and claiming every molecule in my body until he had completely claimed all of me.

Neither of us said anything. Neither of us needed to.

As darkness climbed closer to dusk I let myself fall asleep next to the boy I’d always known.

The boy who’d held my heart in silence.

The boy I might still choose.

Even if I didn’t know how I could ever choose between them.

ChapterTwenty-Six

Warmth radiated through every part of me like a blissful hum tingling my skin. I snuggled further into it, allowing myself to be consumed.

Peering through bleary eyes, I curiously studied my fingers. Why were they entangled with someone else’s? My fingers involuntarily twitched; the tiny spasms somewhat restricted by their current glorious prison.

As sleep slowly unfurled its fangs, I became aware of an unfamiliar yet comfortable weight curling over the side of my waist, following the curve of my body before falling across my stomach.

Shifting my weight, I tried to wiggle myself free, instead, I became increasingly aware that I was pinned to a wall of hard, rippled muscles that completely shadowed the length of my body. And the wiggling was only achieving a series of unsolicited moans.

“If you don’t stop that, we’re going to have a problem.” Sebastian’s voice was still rough with sleep.

Oh. My. Gods.

My eyes flew open, heart thundering in my chest. The first thing I saw was the arm wrapped around my waist, flames licked across his golden skin in inky whorls, as if his body still held the heat of last night–shimmering faintly like embers that refused to die.

Then I saw the body it belonged to–all muscle and heat, carved from fire and familiarity. Every inch of him curved around me like he belonged here. Like I belonged to him.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

Last night came crashing back with merciless clarity—the blood, the screaming, the blade in my hand. The fury that had taken over me. The way Maalikai had pulled me back from the edge when I didn’t even recognize myself. The way he’d touched me after… not just with his hands, but like he saw all the darkness in me and wasn’t afraid.

---