Page 79 of Dark Night of the Soul

She’d been tugging at that gown like she wanted to disappear into it, completely unaware that every man in the room had stopped to look at her. Completely unaware of what it was doing to me.

You look magnificent. Stop fidgeting.

I’d said it like it was nothing more than a casual observation. What I’d meant was, You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and if you don’t stop moving, I’m going to touch you in ways that have nothing to do with this mission.

She’d blushed. Muttered her thanks. Thought I was being flippant.

She had no idea.

I’d pulled her onto the dance floor.

Just follow my lead.

An excuse. That’s all it had been. An excuse to pull her closer, to put my hand at her waist, to feel her body move with mine. She’d been terrified of dancing. I’d been terrified of how much I wanted her.

My hand had been warm at her back. Steady. Certain.

A lie.

Inside, I’d been coming apart. The way she’d looked up at me, violet eyes wide, pulse hammering in her throat. The way she’d stumbled over her own feet and laughed at herself. You really are bad at this, Anna. I’d teased her to keep from saying what I wanted to say.

And you’re perfect.

She’d blurted it out, then tried to play it off. But I’d seen her face. Felt her heart racing when she pressed her hand to my chest.

My own heart had been pounding as hard as hers.

I’d said her name on a breath. Her lips had parted. She’d been ready. I’d been ready. My head had dipped, my mouth so close to hers I could taste the anticipation—

Then chaos. Everything going to hell.

I’d never gotten to kiss her.

Later—after everything went sideways, after we’d escaped—I’d gotten close again. Closer than I should have.

She’d asked me to unzip her dress. Such a simple request. Such an impossible ask.

I’d stood behind her, swept her hair over her shoulder, the dress parting under my fingers. That expanse of bare skin, the curve of her spine, the way her breath had hitched when I touched her. I’d felt her tremble. Felt my own control fracturing.

I’d leaned in. So close I could have kissed her shoulder, her neck. So close I could taste the want.

But I’d stopped myself. Because crossing that line would have changed everything.

She’d stepped away, thanking me like I’d done her a favor instead of torturing us both.

I should have pulled her back. Should have turned her around and finished what we’d started on that dance floor.

I didn’t.

And now I couldn’t. Not without her nervous system attacking me. Not without causing her pain.

Vormund had taken everything. The necklace. Her autonomy. The choice.

My thumb moved absently against her ankle. This was all I had now. This careful distance. This fragile permission.

Outside, the sky was beginning to lighten. Dawn crept through the blackout curtains in thin gray lines. She shifted in her sleep, her breath evening out.

I should move. Let her wake up without me hovering. But I didn’t.