The words hit harder than they should.
If you’re smart enough to think ahead.
I don’t say anything. Because there’s nothing I could say that wouldn’t crack something open. And right now, I need everything to stay closed; the guilt from the small pieces that I still have a glimpse of, I bolt it shut, and I keep climbing.
We stepinto what I assume is his bedroom. The massive window from the balcony throws moonlight across the room in long, silver strands.
“Sit.”
I don’t see the point in arguing, so I ease myself onto the edge of his bed, all dark sheets and clean walls. Kai shrugs off his leather jacket without a word. The black t-shirt underneath clings just enough around his tattooed biceps to be distracting. He disappears into the bathroom, and that’s when I realize my shirt, already short, is now barely covering anything. And with the way it rides up over my hips, I suddenly feel exposed.
When Kai comes back, he places an emergency kit on the nightstand like it’s routine. Lowering himself to one knee, his hand grazes along my leg before I can object. Firm, unbothered, already assessing the damage, calloused skin trailing goosebumps up my spine.
“You don’t have to do that,” I move to pull back, but Kai’s faster. His hand slides under my leg, drawing me forward with ease until my weight shifts on the bed and I’m closer than I meant to be. Then, his mouth meets my wound.
I inhale sharply.
It’s not just the contact. It’s the way Kai holds eye contact while doing it. His gaze, the kind of impossible blue that pulls you under into the abyss.
“Saliva has antibacterial properties,” he says, like we’re having a science lecture and not… Whateverthisis.
I blink. “Alycanthing?”
“A lycan thing,” he repeats, voice even. The pain in my knee starts to fade, the skin already tinged pink as the gash knits itself. And just like that, it makes sense—well,kinda.
I study him quietly, trying not to give away the thousand thoughts racing through me. Because this wasn’t just instinct or biology. Not entirely, and I’m not sure which unsettles me more, how fast it worked…
Or how fast I forgot tostophim.
“Impressive,” I murmur, letting the admiration slip before I can catch it.
Kai flashes me a wolfish smile. “A compliment, Princess? Careful, I might get used to those.”
I arch a brow. “Is that the key to your heart?” I ask, letting the sarcasm curl at the edges of my voice. “Don’t worry. I’m not interested.”
He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink. Kai rises slowly, deliberately, moving closer until one leg slides between mine. The shift makes me lean back on my forearms, instinctively giving him space he doesn’t need permission to take. And suddenly, the room feels warmer than it should.
“Keep telling yourself that,” he murmurs, our eyes lock. His stare is burning, and way too steady for my comfort. And yet, I don’t look away.
The air between us is suffocating with the kind of tension that lingers just before a mistake is made. Kai leans in just enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath along my jaw.
“But don’t mistake me, Princess,” he says, his voice silk and steel. “I don’t have a heart. I just want to hear what other noises you can make.”
My breath catches.
Kai’s words hit low, targeted, and precise. As if he’s already guessed the places I haven’t let anyone near in a long time.
And worse?
They land, heat pools between my thighs. Before I can stop it, I instinctively draw my legs together in a slow, subtle shift. At least, Ithinkit’s subtle. Then I see the flicker in his eyes. Of course, he felt it.
And, oh god, did his nostrils just flare?
Perfect.
I’m going to die, right here. Of sheer, flaming humiliation. But instead of pressing it, a low, involuntary deep growl rumbles from his chest, before he turns away. Leaving cold air in his wake. As if he didn’t just scramble half my nervous system witha single sentence. Kai crouches by the kit, rummaging through it as if I’m not still trying to remember how to breathe. I shift on the bed, smoothing down my shirt as if it might somehow restore my dignity.
It doesn’t.
