Page 187 of Echoes of the Banshee

Not just a sound. Not just pleasure. A scream.

And I break.

A hollow void rips through my chest. I shatter in an instant.

I chose him. I chose Zair.

And now all I can feel is the absence of something I never had the right to abandon.

The sobs come before I can stop them. The tears blur everything until the room is nothing but a smear of guilt and grief.

What have I done?

I have a mate.

I’ve known. I’ve searched.

Lazarus.

He’s out there. Waiting. And I gave everything to someone else.

Because I didn’t just sleep with Zair.

I love him. I let myself love him.

And in doing so, I’ve betrayed Lazlo in every possible way.

This can’t be undone.

“Thea…”

Zair’s voice is thick with alarm, with heartbreak. He’s frozen above me.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve stopped.”

No, no, this isn’t his fault.

I’m ruining this now too.

Ruining the one person who’s seen me and chosen me.

My hands push him away, fearful and cruel. I don’t deserve his comfort, don’t deserve his guilt.

This — this was me.

All me.

And I’m a wreck. A failure. A walking curse.

La – Zair – Us

Delayed gratification is real. I’ve buried it, locked it under layers of control, telling myself I could wait because that’s what she needed. Every glance, every accidental touch only added fuel to a hunger I refused to acknowledge. But the moment she kissed me: all my reservations, rules, and plans crumbled in an instant.

That kiss… It wasn’t just a kiss. It was searing and unforgiving. Heat, need, an unspoken desperation that consumed both of us at once. I told myself I’d hold back. That I’d protect her because I owed her that much. But as her hands tangled in my hair, as her body pressed against mine with a fervor of desire, I knew I couldn’t.

I should stop. I need to stop before it’s too late. I love her. But what if she wakes up tomorrow and regrets this? What if I’m just a distraction, a way to fill the emptiness she feels? I tried to slow it down. Told myself to breathe, to keep my head, not to lose control. She needs to be sure. I’m not going to push her into something she isn’t ready for. I could see it in the frantic way she pulled off my clothes.

But then she said my name, like she needed me, like she wanted me. The feel of her skin against mine was a wildfire. There was no escape for me, not when everything in me was screaming to hold her. To claim her. To be hers completely.