His hand lifted, slow, almost shaking, and hovered near my face.
“But I couldn’t outrun you.”
The words hit like a punch.
“You can’t say that to me,” I whispered. “You don’t get to vanish and come back like nothing happened.”
“I know,” he said.
He looked down then, almost ashamed.
“I don’t know how to do this, Portia.”
I felt tears sting the backs of my eyes. But I didn’t let them fall.
“Then why are you here?” I asked.
His gaze lifted, blazing now, no more fog, no more smoke.
“Because I don’t want anyone else touching you.”
I closed my eyes.
Because it was the wrong reason.
And yet—the only one I wanted.
He stepped closer again, until I could feel the heat of his chest.
“Tell me to go,” he said. “And I will. I swear to God. Just say the word.”
I looked at him.
And I didn’t.
I didn’t say anything.
Instead, I opened the door wider.
And Silas Dane stepped inside.
The door clicked shut behind him, quiet as a confession.
Neither of us moved. Not at first. We just stood there in the hush of my suite.
I watched him like he was an earthquake I hadn’t decided to survive yet. And still, my voice came steady.
“What is this?” I asked. “This push and pull. This chase, then vanish. You burn me and then you disappear like smoke. Is this a game to you?”
“No,” he said, rough and immediate. “It’s war.”
My breath caught.
He moved closer, slow, like I was something wild that might bolt. “You think I don’t know what I’m doing? You think I haven’t tried to stay away?” His jaw flexed. “Every minute I was away from you, I wanted to come back. But I didn’t know how. Because when I look at you, Portia—I don’t just see fire. I seeruin. I see the man I used to be, and the man I don’t know how to become.”
I shook my head, voice trembling. “You don’t get to stand here and say that. You don’t get to make me the center of your storm and then act like I was the one who moved.”
His voice dropped to a whisper. “Then tell me what this is.”
