She rubs her eyes, her movements slow and tired, and I can’t help but notice how small she looks like this—wrapped in the oversized bedding, her hair a mess, her usual defenses nowhere in sight.
“Did you sleep?” she asks, her voice still soft.
“Not much,” I admit, leaning back against the headboard. “Too much on my mind.”
We sit in silence for a moment. Then, before I can stop myself, I reach out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “You look better.”
She arches a brow. “Better?”
“Less haunted,” I say simply.
Her smile fades slightly, and she glances down, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the sheet. “Last night . . .” She hesitates, then looks up at me, her hazel eyes searching mine. “Thank you. For being so patient with me.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I say, my voice low. “I told you, Gale. You’re safe with me.”
She holds my gaze for a long moment, searching for something I’m not sure she’ll find. And then—finally—her lips curve into a smile. It’s faint, just a whisper of one, but it’s real.
And it’s everything.
Before I can think better of it, I close the space between us, my hand sliding to the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair as I claim her lips with mine.
This kiss isn’t soft. It isn’t gentle.
It’s need—fierce, raw, and all-consuming.
She gasps against my mouth, her hands clutching at me like I’m the only thing keeping her grounded. And maybe I am. Because in this moment, it’s not just about desire. It’s everything—every unsaid word we’ve swallowed, every glance that lingered too long, every breath that caught when we got too close but didn’t cross the line. It’s the ache of what could’ve been, the fear of what might not be, and the overwhelming pull of what is.
This kiss isn’t just a release. It’s a confession.
When we finally break apart, our foreheads press together, our breaths mingling in the stillness that follows. The world feels impossibly small, like it’s folding in on itself until there’s nothing left but her.
And in this silence, I know one thing with absolute certainty—this kiss is the beginning.
The start of something I can’t name and also can’t deny.
The spark of a fire that’s been waiting too long to burn.
The moment everything shifts, and there’s no going back.
Of what, I can’t say. It’s undefined, vast, and uncharted, but it belongs to her. Just as every piece of me does— every thought, every breath, every fragment of who I am, drawn to her as if I’ve been waiting my whole life for this moment, for her to claim it. To claim me.
“Ledger . . .” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly.
“Tell me to stop,” I murmur, my thumb grazing her cheek, the words hanging between us like a lifeline. “And I will.”
But she doesn’t.
Instead, she leans in, her lips finding mine again, her fingers tangling in my hair like she’s holding on for dear life, like letting go isn’t an option.
And for the first time in what feels like forever, something clicks into place. Everything feels right.
Even if it’s nothing like it was ever supposed to be.
ChapterTwenty-Six
Galeana
I shouldn’t be doingthis. I know it, feel it deep in my bones.
