“Bullshit!”I snap, stepping closer. “And you know it!”
Silence.
My chest is rising too fast, the adrenaline from the fight still burns. My body remembers him—every breath, every touch, every strike.
“You walked away,” I say, softer.
He exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. “Because therewas nothing else to say.”
I shake my head. “No. You walked away because if you’d stayed—if you’d acknowledged what just happened—then we wouldn’t be able topretendanymore.”
I step closer. Close enough to feel his heat. “I’m done pretending.”
A muscle jumps in his jaw, but he says nothing.
And that silence? It dares me.
“Youfeltit, Thane. The way we moved. The way we—” I inhale sharply. “Everyonesaw it. Don’t stand there and tell me that it was just training. Don’t lie to me!”
Still nothing, his expression—blank.
But I see it. The flicker beneath—the pain behind the mask.
“Look—I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry I ran from the bond. But I’m not running anymore.”
His jaw tightens, but his eyes—gods, his eyes—aren’t angry. They’re braced . . . for something.
Still, he doesn’t speak.
I want to scream.
I reach out—press my palm to his chest, right over his heart. His breath catches. Subtle. But I feel it. Then—
“Amara . . . ” His voice fractures. “I thought I could do this. Be with you. But I can’t.”
It hits like a blow to my gut. I stare, speechless.
But then I see it—the conflict in his face. His expression smooth but his eyeswrecked.
“Why are you saying that, Thane?” My voice catches somewhere between heartbreak and disbelief. “You said we would figure this out. Why areyoufighting this?”
His hands twitch. Wanting to reach. Wanting to run.
He does neither.
“Because Ihaveto,” he finally says—voice raw, like the words are being ripped from somewhere deep inside him.
“Why?!”I shout, demanding more. Because how dare he turn away now—after everything. “Why, Thane?”
Thane slams a fist against his chest—“Because you deserve a choice! I refuse to take your future from you!” His voice cracks, rough and ragged. “Because being with me will destroy you!”
He shakes his head—furious, broken. “There are things you don’t—” He stops. Corrects himself. “Youcan’tknow.”
The words hit like a punch to the lungs.
I stare at him. “What?” I breathe.
His eyes darken, a storm surging in them, wild and electric.
