Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
S till fuming, I changed into my night attire and finally laid down. I’d spent my entire day avoiding mom and Sebastian, locking myself in my room, and pretending no one else existed.
I’d gone over the conversation with Sebastian a million times until it was firmly burnt into my brain. I understood where he was coming from and the need to protect me. If it was the other way around, I would do anything within my power to keep him safe. Even withholding the truth.
It was the emotional turmoil that left me drained, begging for some reprieve from sleep. Before I had a chance to close my eyes, there was a soft knock on my door.
Taking a deep breath, I chucked my blanket off, taking the several steps to my door. Swinging it open, I wasn’t surprised to see Sebastian standing in my doorway.
Even with everything broken between us, I knew he’d stayed–just beyond the walls of my room all day, still protecting me. Guarding me in silence. Honoring the space I’d desperately ached for. Still, somehow, unapologetically mine. Even from a distance.
I remained silent, crossing my arms over my chest, staring him down.
“Wanna talk?” I didn’t answer. “I come bearing gifts.”
Sebastian raised a fur-lined blanket in an offer of truce. It was my favorite blanket, the one we had cuddled up in when we were kids, the one I still used when I was upset and needed comfort. He hadn’t forgotten.
“Please.”
My heart softened. I almost melted into the blanket, relishing the soft lining of the inside, my limbs tingling with the warmth. I walked back over to my bed and sat, draping the blanket over my crossed legs. Then, I gestured for him to take a seat next to me.
There was only one small candle lit in my room and the shadows were long and foreboding, reflecting my mood from today almost perfectly.
“Look, Em, I’m so sorry...”
“No.” I couldn’t let him continue, I just couldn’t.
Sebastian looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “No?”
“You aren’t the one who needs to apologize; I am. I know you’re just trying to protect me. I get it. I have a habit of flying off the handle when I’m feeling hurt. Or betrayed. Or just pissed off to be honest.”
“No shit.” Sebastian opened his mouth to say something more, before clamping it shut. After several seconds he tried again, “You’re not just messing with me right now, are you?”
Honestly, I couldn’t blame him for jumping to that conclusion. “I swear, I’m not.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Sebastian rested against the side of one of the carved bed posts. “You do know I was just trying to help, right?”
I’d had all day with only my own thoughts to sift through. I knew Sebastian to his very core; there wasn’t a single vindictive bone in his body. Without question, I knew he thought he was acting in my best interests. Regardless of how I felt about his decision to keep crucial information from me, I knew with every fiber of my being, he thought he was doing it for the right reasons.
“Of course.”
“Okay, since I’m not in the bad books anymore, can I talk to you about something else?”
Oh Gods, that was an open-ended question, one I wasn’t sure I wanted to be entangled with. “Okay,” I drew the word out.
“I’ve had all day to myself–to sit and think.”
“That’s rarely a good thing.”
He rolled his eyes and chose to ignore me. “Maalikai likes you. As much as it kills me to say, the guy’s clearly head over heels for you. And before you say anything–just shut your mouth and listen for a damn second.” I was half a breath from cutting him off, but the look in his eyes made me pause. I nodded, silent. “This is… so damn hard to admit, but I’ve seen the way you look at him. A spark I’ve never seen before. Like you’re finally letting yourself feel something. Something that makes you feel alive.”
“Maybe that’s just my magik?” My voice dropped–low and vindictive, laced with every sharp edge I could summon.
I didn’t mean to lash out–the venom came from the storm beneath my skin, from the power I couldn’t cage nor harness. I held up my fingers, lightning twisting up my palm and dancing at my fingertips, power crackling between them.
Sebastian’s eyes grew large in disbelief. “You’re still harnessing magik?”
I shrugged noncommittally. “I guess that’s just who I am now; some fucked up, half-breed, magik-wielding mongrel.
“Em!” The shock in Sebastian’s tone suggested that I’d maybe gone a little too far. “We will deal with all of that,”—he gestured to all of me—“later. Right now, just let me finish.” Before I could get a word out, he raised a finger, silencing me a second time. “You deserve the world, I just want you to have that.”
An invisible fist wrapped around my heart, squeezing until I thought I couldn’t bear the pain. “I get that, I do, but…”
“But what?” I didn’t have the right words to describe what I was feeling. “You’re still afraid of hurting me?”
“Terrified.” The word whooshed out of me like it’d been caged, and Sebastian had somehow set it free.
“We’re all going to get hurt at some point in life—there’s no escaping it. The only way to avoid pain is to have nothing worth fighting for. And that’s not the life I want. I’d rather fight for the people I love— really fight. And if I end up heartbroken… at least I’ll know I had something that mattered. Something that meant everything to me.”
Silence stretched between us, thick with meaning. Then—softly, with a level of understanding that I couldn’t quite fathom—“You’re never going to lose me. Not even if you choose him...”
Tears stung my eyes. My voice broke on one word. “Never?”
He pulled me into him without hesitation, arms wrapping around me, steady and strong. Like they belonged around me—like they always had. My head found its place against his chest. His lips brushed the crown of my hair, warm breath threading into the silence between us.
“Never,” he whispered.
“I can’t break you like that,” I breathed, barely able to get the words out.
A soft, self-deprecating laugh escaped him. “I know who I am, Em. And I’m not afraid of competing with someone else... because I don’t see it as a competition.”
I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“If you chose me now—without giving yourself the chance to explore who you are, and what you really want—then I’d always wonder if you picked me because of our history and friendship. Because of loyalty. Because you felt like you owed it to me.”
He shook his head gently, voice raw and unflinching. “Not because you want to. Not because it’s real . And I’d spend the rest of my life second-guessing every kiss, every look, every moment... always wondering if I was just the safer choice. Always wondering if I was ever really enough .”
My heart twisted with the weight of understanding.
“But,” he continued, eyes never leaving mine, “if you’re honest with yourself— really honest—if you give yourself permission to explore it all... and you figure out what you want, who you want… then I’ll know that if you choose me, it’s because your heart is sure. Not out of guilt. Not out of loyalty. Out of truth.”
I exhaled a stuttered breath, crushed beneath the magnitude of what he was offering. Of how selfless he truly was.
“You owe it to yourself, to him, and to me—to be sure of what you want. To experience it. To taste it. Knowing it’s okay.”
He paused, then added, quieter, “And that’s the only version of us I want. One forged in truth. Not one born from obligation or doubt.”
My breath hitched.
Well... holy shit .
I still didn’t know if I could. I stood at the edge of something vast and untamable, trembling at the thought of stepping forward—because once I did, everything would change. There’d be no undoing it. No coming back. The implications of this choice were too life-changing. Too terrifying.
“Em,” he said gently.
“Yeah?”
“Why does the thought of having us both scare you so much?”
Weight crushed my chest, my lungs choking on the familiar ache of not being enough. When I finally spoke, my voice came out broken.
“Because…” My voice fractured. “I’m not worthy of either of your love. And one day, you’ll wake up and see that—and it’ll break me.”
“That’s not true?—”
I didn’t let him finish. I couldn’t.
“It is . The only people who’ve ever stayed—ever tolerated me—are the ones fundamentally designed that way. My mom. My dad. My uncle. They were created to love me, regardless of whether I’m a huge disappointment.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “But you… you weren’t. You didn’t have to love me. And you still saw something in me. You still chose me. You loved me regardless.”
I looked at him, tears clouding my vision. “But what if you’re wrong about me? What if I don’t become the person you believe I am? What if I fall short of your expectations? What if being me isn’t good enough?”
My voice dropped, stripped bare. “Failing you would be my greatest downfall.”
Sebastian’s gaze didn’t waver. His eyes locked with mine—flecked with darkness, dancing in the candlelight. But behind them was only sorrow. Understanding.
He knew me too well. Knew that my defiance, my sarcasm, my sharp tongue—they were armor. Distraction. A mask for the one truth I could never shake.
That deep down, I believed I wasn’t enough.
Yet, he saw me.
All of me.
He saw the wreckage I tried to hide. The quiet ache underneath it all.
“You are enough,” he said, each word deliberate. Like truth. Like prayer.
I heard him. I just… couldn’t believe him.
Not when the shame ran so deep it felt carved into bone. Not when it clung so tightly it felt branded into my skin. His truth would never be mine. I could ignore it, sometimes. Maybe even pretend. But I would never truly accept it.
Sebastian pulled me into his arms again, holding me like I was something sacred.
“You are worthy of love,” he whispered. “ Beyond worthy.”
My shoulders trembled. Tears spilled freely, the ache too much to hold inside. It wasn’t that I thought he was lying. No matter how many times he said it, it would never sit comfortably inside me.
This ache—this festering wound tearing me apart—was all-consuming. It started in my chest and swelled like a swirling storm of insidious darkness. Most days, it lay dormant. But when it didn’t, it came with a fierceness that stole my breath and devoured my identity. It stripped me bare—ripped away everything I was—until I was naked, alone, and vulnerable. And at its mercy… my mind begged for surrender.
For release.
No—“ache” wasn’t a strong enough word. It was more than that. It was a plague —something corrosive that lived inside me, curling itself around my lungs until even breathing became an act of survival. Each inhale wasn’t relief. It was resistance. Every breath burned like drowning, like dragging shattered glass through my ribs just to prove I was still here.
Existing didn’t feel like living—it felt like being claimed . Like my own body had turned on me, stripping me of everything I was, everything I wanted to be.
There was no escape.
No quiet.
No peace.
Just the suffocating weight of not being enough.
Of never being enough.
How could I ever possibly put that into words?
How could I even begin to explain the way my own self-worth destroyed me—layer by layer, breath by breath? Even he couldn’t save me from that. Save me from myself.
Then he looked at me—and something shifted.
Not just in the room.
Not just between us.
But in me.
He made it stop. The incessant noise that usually refused to give me a heartbeat’s respite… faded. Like he alone had some quiet command over it.
A command over me.
The firelight caught in his eyes—amber, deep, certain. A stray lock of hair had fallen loose over his forehead, wild and beautiful, like him. And Gods... I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“I want this,” I whispered. “I want you .”
He stilled, breath catching like I’d just said the one thing he never expected to hear. “Are you sure?”
A flicker of doubt twisted in my chest. “But, it won’t be fair to you,” I murmured. “It’ll be different.”
His brow creased. “Why?”
The quiet stretched between us, thick and tight.
Then—softly, gently— “Because you’re a virgin?”
I looked away, shame slithering up my spine. That word made me feel small. Inexperienced. Unwanted. Like I’d been passed over my whole life—like no one had ever truly wanted me.
No one but Sebastian.
And now... Maalikai.
“How can I compare fairly?” I whispered. “How can I choose between you both when this... when we would be different? Tainted by my inexperience?”
Sebastian’s hand found my face, thumb tracing gently along my jaw, coaxing my gaze back to his. There was no judgment. Just warmth. Mischief. Devotion.
“Then you’ll just have to sample again,” he said, lips curling into that wicked smile that undid me. “And again. Until you’re sure. No shame. No guilt. No expectations. Just youseeking your truth.”
My breath stuttered. A laugh escaped—quiet, disbelieving. “You’re impossible.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, leaning in, his voice brushing the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “But you love me for it.”
Gods help me... I did .
He kissed me then—slow, reverent, like I was something worth worshipping. A thousand emotions passed between us with that kiss—years of restraint, of longing, of almosts that never became more.
His hands moved over me like he was memorizing, not claiming. Every touch a question I didn’t need to answer. Every breath between us a vow he never had to speak.
He didn’t rush. He learned . Every stroke was soft inquiry. Every shift of breath a silent prayer.
He moved like I was sacred ground.
And I... I let him explore.