CHAPTER 37
Lucien
I found her on the terrace. The night air tangled her hair around her shoulders, and the moonlight caught the curve of her jaw, her trembling hands, the subtle tilt of her head as she tried to seem untouchable.
I stepped closer, letting her sense me before I spoke. Her body stiffened, but she didn’t flee. I could feel every pulse of hesitation, every breath caught in her chest, every flicker of longing. She belonged here, to me, and yet she thought she had a choice.
“She can try to hide it,” I murmured to myself, “but the fire inside her cannot lie.”
I reached for her hand, brushing it lightly with my thumb. Her breath hitched, subtle but unmistakable. I wanted to pull her into my arms, to show her that resistance was pointless. That I would wait, patient and relentless, until she surrendered completely.
Every thought of her, every heartbeat I felt through her subtle cues, consumed me. Possession isn’t cruel, I reminded myself. It is protection. It is closeness. It is the tether that keeps us both alive.