Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I stood there, frozen between the two halves of my heart, and didn’t say a single word. Because I didn’t know which one I’d lose—or which loss would destroy me more.
Sebastian cleared his throat. “I’m just gonna give you two a minute.”
Something that sounded an awful lot like thanks slipped from me, but I couldn’t be sure I’d actually said it aloud.
A heartbeat passed and then another before I worked up the courage to say something.
“Hey,”a breathless whisper escaped me.
“Hey.” Maalikai closed the distance between us, and the warmth of his breath caught the loose strands of my hair, making them dance across my cheek.
“May I?”
I nodded.
Frozen.
Wrecked.
His fingers reached for the arrowhead at my collarbone, grazing the swell of my chest. Warmth spread through me, claiming every shattered piece of me.
His gaze stayed locked on mine.
“Beautiful,”he murmured—but I had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the necklace.
My insides uncoiled—then snapped taut again, strung so tight I could barely breathe.
“But I think it would be better if you wore something that represented me too. It’s only fair.”He added, voice rough-edged with the kind of violence I loved too much, every word setting fire beneath my skin.
I swallowed hard. “You’d make something for me?”
“In a heartbeat. But I don’t want it to be just anything. I want it to mean something. A token of how I feel about you. A token of my love.”
My heart crumbled to ash at his words. “I couldn’t ask that of you.”
“You’re not,” he said gently. “I’m offering it. Freely.”
But I couldn’t accept anything from him. Not when I was about to shatter his world.
“Princess?”Maalikai asked, voice raw with something far too real—roughened by what felt like devotion. His eyes devoured me, slow and soul-deep, like it hurt him not to touch me.
And Gods, it made everything harder.
“What happened last night…”I began, forcing the words out, “can’t happen again.”
A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes, like he thought I was teasing.
“Why?” He leaned against a hay bale, plucking a piece of straw and slipping it between his lips, chewing on the end. Somehow, he looked sin-drenched in fractured sunlight—and it was doing catastrophic things to my resolve.
“Because we would never work.” My voice faltered.
His amusement faded. “Really?”
“Yes.” But even I heard the fracture in my voice.
I couldn’t tell him the truth. Couldn’t admit that Sebastian changed everything. That I didn’t trust myself not to destroy one of them.
Or both.
That maybe I already had.
Choosing between them felt like choosing which half of my soul I could survive without. And the only thing stopping me from letting myself have both of them…
Was me.
“What we are—it’s too complicated. It’s too much.”My pulse thundered as I struggled to speak. “You already make me feel too damn vulnerable.”
His fingers paused where they’d been playing with a lock of my hair.
“You didn’t like being with me?”he asked, voice stripped bare.
“What? No—I did. I mean—” I exhaled hard, like the truth was choking me.
“This is about Sebastian.” His voice was scraped over embers—low, raw, scorched.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to.
Gods, I didn’t even try to deny it.
“This can’t happen,”I said quietly. “Not now. Not ever.”
He stepped back like I’d slapped him. Like my words had lit lightning underneath his skin.
“I told you you’d regret it.”
“I don’t,”I said—too fast, like it carried the weight of a lie.
“You know I heard him,”he continued, stepping closer again. His voice rumbled low, steady, laced with restraint. “He said you could… sample before deciding.”
My stomach dropped. My whole body clenched at the memory of Sebastian’s words—what it would mean if I actually considered what he’d offered.
“He’s willing to give you that. Just once. So you can be sure.”
I opened my mouth. But nothing came. Because I wanted to. Gods, I wanted to. But the second the thought crystallized, I recoiled.
“If I say yes to that… to both of you…”My voice was barely audible.“What does that make me?”
Maalikai stilled. Dark brows drew together like he didn’t understand the depth of what I was really asking.
“It makes you someone trying to make the right decision.”
“No,”I whispered.
This wasn’t just about desire. I wanted both of them—unequivocally, undeniably. But the implications went deeper than lust.
Because it wasn’t just this moment I feared would damn me. It was every moment that came before. Every choice I’d made that the world had already crucified me for. Already decided I wasn’t enough. Or that I was too much. That I didn’t deserve the air I breathed.
Most days, I could ignore it. Could pretend their judgment didn’t matter. But this? This would be absolute. No room for retribution. No brand would be large enough to wash away this sin.
“It makes me weak. It makes me indecisive. It makes me—” My voice cracked. “Slutty.”
He flinched like I’d struck him.
“I’ve fought so hard to believe I’m worth something. Anything ,”I confessed. “To hold onto the last shred of self-respect I have. But if I do this… if I let myself have both of you, even for a second—” I swallowed, throat burning. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to look at myself the same. And that’s all I have left. My own idea of myself. If I lose that—I lose everything.”
His jaw flexed. But when he spoke, his voice was soft. “Is that really how you see yourself?”
“Yes.”My voice was barely a breath. “It’s how I see me. How the world sees me. And I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending that doesn’t matter.” Tears burned my eyes. “I’m not enough—for you. For Sebastian. For this world. I’m nothing.” Something vital inside me fractured–quietly, completely–the sound of it echoing. Hollow. Claiming. “I don’t even know why either of you want me. One day, you’ll wake up and realise I’m not enough… that I never was.”
I knew I wasn’t perfect. But the thought of tainting whatever dignity I had left—it was enough to rip me apart.
“I can’t stand the thought of hating myself for what I want,”I whispered. “And I don’t know if I’ll still recognize the girl I am if I let myself have this.”
Maalikai stepped closer, so near his breath brushed my lips. “You are not shameful,”he said. “You’re not less because you feel too much. You are fire and storm and soul—and you are worthy of love, no matter how broken you feel.”
My throat locked. A thousand words welled up. None of them made it to my lips.
“You think if you choose both, even for a moment, you’ll lose yourself,”he said gently. “But maybe that’s how you find yourself. Not the version the world wants. The real you. The unapologetic you.”
My heart shattered. “I don’t know if I’m brave enough to find her,”I whispered.
He reached for me—fingers ghosting up my thigh, tracing the storm beneath my skin. My body lit up in response, betraying me with how much I wanted him.
“See?”he murmured. “You want this just as much as I do. And if this helps you finally choose—if it helps you see what you need—I’m not afraid.”
But I was.
Gods, I was terrified.
Of wanting too much.
Of not being enough.
“Think about it, Princess,”he said, voice almost a goodbye. “You don’t need to be perfect to be worthy. You don’t have to prove your value by bleeding for it. You are worthy of love–not despite your scars, but because of them. Because of the fire, the chaos, the doubt. You are not too much. You are enough. Exactly as you are. Even shattered… you’re still everything.”
And then he stepped back.
And I let him.
Even as every part of me fractured.
Even as I stood there, aching for a version of myself I wasn’t sure I deserved to be.