He hadn’t taken me.
He didn’t need to.
He’d already won.
And somehow—some sick, desperate part of me wanted him to come back.
Wanted to stay.
Right here.
In the ruin.
Trapped between the instinct to flee and the aching temptation to fall.
As if sensing my unraveling from afar, the shadows on the wall seemed to twitch—just barely.
And for a single, fragile breath…
I wondered if he was still watching.
Chapter 12
Hades
I stepped into her room just before dawn; the shadows clinging to me like a second skin. No knock. No apology. No pretense.
She was mine. There was no door she could close to keep me out.
She lay curled on her side, draped in the robe I’d given her—my robe now, technically. The fabric swallowed her whole, but not enough to hide the shape of her. Her legs tucked in tight. One bare shoulder exposed. Lips parted in the soft surrender of sleep.
She looked wrecked. Worn.
Perfect.
I stood there, motionless, the hunger coiling low in my chest tightening into something darker.
She didn’t know how beautiful she was like this—unguarded, raw.
No fire. No venom on her tongue.
Just breath and skin and the barest twitch of her brow, like she was fighting something in her dreams.
Me, probably.
Good.
I wanted to exist in her even here. Especially here.
She looks softer like this. Peaceful. But that won’t last. Peace is the one thing I never promised her.
Her hand twitched.
Fingers curled.
Like they remembered me.
Like some part of her already missed the feel of my hands on her skin.
