I'd stopped pretending somewhere around when I’d driven over the Roanoke county line, with Killian’s headlights in my rearview mirror.
Killian was behind me now, his presence a constant pressure I could feel even without looking. He'd been waiting for me to speak, to fight, to try one more time to explain why this was wrong.
But I was so tired of fighting.
"I can't keep doing this," I said quietly.
"Doing what?"
"Pretending I don't want this." I turned to face him, and the look in his eyes made my breath catch. "Pretending I want to leave."
He went very still. "What are you saying, Lena?"
"I'm saying I'm done running, even though I’m terrified,” The words felt like both a confession and a surrender. "I'm saying you win."
Killian’s eyes seemed to twinkle. “You don’t ever need to be afraid of me. And This isn't about winning."
"Yes, it is." I stepped closer, my heart pounding. "You wanted me to accept this, to accept you, to stop fighting what we are. And I'm accepting it. All of it."
Something dark and possessive flashed across his face. "You understand what that means?"
"I think so."
"No." He closed the distance between us, his hand coming up to grip my jaw. "You need to be sure. Because once you're mine, really mine, there's no going back."
I should have been terrified.
Instead, I felt relief.
"I'm already yours," I whispered. "I have been since the beginning. I just didn't want to admit it."
His eyes searched mine, looking for any sign of hesitation, any trace of the woman who'd tried to run.
He wouldn't find her.
She was gone.
"Say it again," he demanded.
"I'm yours, Killian. Completely."
The kiss was gentle this time, different from the desperate claiming in the restaurant bathroom. This was slow, reverent, like he was sealing a promise between us.
When he pulled back, his thumb traced my bottom lip. "Come with me."
He led me to the bedroom, and I followed without hesitation. The room was bathed in soft moonlight streaming through the windows, making everything feel dreamlike, surreal.
Killian sat on the edge of the bed and pulled me between his legs, his hands resting on my hips.
"I need you to understand something," he said, his voice low and serious. "This isn't just about obsession anymore. This isn't just about wanting you so badly I can't think straight."
"What is it then?"
"It's love." He said it simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Fucked up, possessive, probably unhealthy love. But love nonetheless."
Tears pricked my eyes. "Killian..."
"I know I'm not normal. I know what I've done is wrong by every conventional standard." His hands slid up to cup my face. "But I will spend every day for the rest of my life taking care of you, protecting you, loving you in the only way I know how."
