Hargen turns to me. “But you need to understand, Vanya will find out. And when she does…” He doesn’t finish.
I nod once. “I know.”
“She’s not going to see this the way you do,” he continues. “She’s going to see our twenty-one-year-old daughter involved with a man who’s…”
“Too old for her,” I mutter, finishing his sentence.
“I don’t care what she sees—” Ember starts.
“You should,” Hargen cuts in, gentle but firm. “Because her reaction will make today’s conversation look like a friendly chat.” He takes in a breath. “Get some rest. We’ll talk later about the San Juan arrangements.”
He doesn’t wait for a response; just leaves, closing the door behind him.
Ember and I stand in the sudden silence. The moment is broken, heat dispersed, reality crashed back in. I keep my expression neutral, though inside, everything is chaos. The energy in the room settles, cooling to normal temperature.
“He’s right. Vanya’s going to find out.”
“Let her.” Ember lifts her chin.
“You say that now,” I say quietly.
Her frustration returns, a flash of fire in her eyes. “What do you want me to say, Luke? That I’ll hide this? Pretend it didn’t happen?”
“I want you to think about what you’re risking.”
“I have. And I’m still here.”
I step closer. Not touching, but close enough that she feels the pull between us. Close enough that our energy fields brush against each other, hers fiery and chaotic, mine deeper, steadier, the product of centuries of control.
“I’m not asking you to hide it. I’m asking you to be prepared for the fallout.”
Ember searches my face. “Are you prepared?”
“No,” I admit. “But I’m done running from it.”
The uncertainty lingers between us. We both know Vanya’s reaction is coming. Both know it’ll be brutal. The question is whether this fragile thing between us can survive it.
I notice Ember’s exhaustion crashing in, the slight sway in her stance, the heaviness of her eyelids as fatigue takes over.
“You should rest. Medical orders.” My voice softens.
She wants to stay—I can see it in her eyes—wants to keep this frail connection intact. But her body’s shutting down, energy finally depleted.
“Go. Sleep. We’ll figure this out.”
She nods reluctantly.
At the door, she pauses. “Luke?”
I turn. “Yeah?”
“Don’t disappear on me.”
My expression softens fractionally. “I won’t. Promise.”
She leaves.
I watch the door close, then sink onto the bed where we were tangled moments ago. The sheets still carry her scent; sweet innocence mingled with lust. A combination that will be my undoing.
