His expression softened and he moved closer, his proximity overwhelming. “I won’t let you die,” he whispered, his lips hovering near mine, the heat of his breath mingling with the cooler air. “I’ll protect you, Cat.”
“It’syouI need protection from,” I whispered back, my voice trembling slightly. When his hand drifted up to caress my cheek I flinched, unable to help the instinctive reaction to his touch.
“Maybe so…” he conceded softly, his eyes searching mine. “But I won’t let anything happen to you. That much I can promise you, Cat. If I fail, may I die by a thousand cuts,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss against my lips.
My breath hitched and I gripped the edges of the bench, the rough stone biting into my palms. I was motionless, torn between pulling away and drawing nearer to the strange, unwanted thrill his closeness elicited. My heart fiercely pounded, a wild drumbeat echoing through the quiet garden.
How could I harbor such deep resentment and yet be moved by his proximity? It was a paradox I wasn’t ready to unravel, a tangle of emotions I wasn't prepared to dissect just yet. Probably because if I did, I’d end up with a wicked migraine and a case of Stockholm syndrome.
The conflicting feelings left me frozen under his touch, caught in a moment I neither fully understood nor could escape.
Damien's kiss lingered briefly, a ghostly touch that left a trail of confusion in its wake. He pulled back slightly, searching my face for any sign of reciprocation. I remained still, caught in the tumult of my racing heart and the clamor of conflicting emotions. Every instinct screamed for me to push him away, to erect barriers as impenetrable as the walls of his volcanic fortress, yet part of me was inexplicably drawn to the danger he represented.
I was officially deranged. I had to be, because seriously? The man literally pulled me out of the river and stopped me from going home. He kept me captive in this weird-ass world and now he wanted me to marry him? And stranger than that,Iwas actually contemplating it?
Jesus Christ.
I must have lost my ever-loving mind.
The silence that enveloped us was broken only by distant bird calls and the whisper of the wind through the leaves, a natural symphony that seemed at odds with the intensity of our confrontation. The floral sweetness of nearby blossoms mingled with the acrid tang of my fear and the musky hint of his proximity.
“You’re a terrible kisser,” I mumbled with a roll of my eyes.
He chuckled. “Well, that’s a first. I’ve been accused of many things, but not that. Maybe I should try again.” He leaned toward me again, but I stopped him with a finger against his lips.
“That’s unnecessary.” But before I could push him away, he pulled my hand from his mouth, gripped the back of my head, and pulled me toward him again.
Damien’s lips crashed onto mine in a punishing kiss that left me absolutely breathless, trapping my arms between our chests so I couldn’t even push him away if I wanted to, which, oddly enough, I didn’t. Our mouths molded together as if they’d done this many times before, and I melted in his arms. If he hadn’t been holding me up, I would have collapsed on weak knees. I hated that more than anything.
When he finally pulled away I gasped, my eyes wide in shock. “Am I still terrible?” he asked teasingly.
I gulped but didn’t answer.
For fuck’s sake. Just kill me now.
“I mean… I guess you’re okay,” I mumbled and looked away, not meeting his gaze. My face heated and I just wanted to dig myself a hole and hide. I peered over at him. “I’d give it an A for effort.”
Damien’s gaze held mine, his eyes reflecting a turmoil that matched my own. “Cat,” he began, his voice low, “I know this isn’t simple or straightforward. But I’m not the villain you think I am. I’m trapped by circumstances much larger than either of us.”
I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “You speak of circumstances,” I countered, my voice steadier than I felt, “but choices are what define us, Damien. You chose to use me as a means to an end. Can you blame me for doubting your intentions now?”
He sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of regret. “I made choices under duress, yes. But believe me when I say that my intentions towards you have changed.” His hand reached out, hesitating inches from the twin flame tattoo on my arm before he seemed to think better of it and let it drop. “I want to protect you, not just for my sake but for yours as well. We are linked by this mark, whether we wished for it or not. It binds us in ways we are only beginning to understand.”
As Damien’s words hung in the air, thick with implication, I shifted my gaze to the horizon where the sky seamlessly blended into the canopy of lush trees bordering the Ryder residence. The faint smell of earth and foliage intermingled with the subtle perfume of blooming flowers. The atmosphere, usually so comforting and vibrant, now felt oppressive, charged with the tension of our conversation.
“And if I refuse? What then, Damien? Will you still force me to stay?” I asked, my voice steady but underlined with growing unease.
“Yes,” he replied after a weighty pause, his tone resolute yet tinged with regret. “I have no other choice. But I ask you to consider what staying might mean—not just for me, but for you as well. This world, as strange and dangerous as it is, holds answers to questions we both share.”
I scoffed, a sharp, disbelieving sound that sliced through the soft hum of the garden around us. “What questions could I possibly have about a world I don’t belong in?” I challenged, pushing away from him and creating a physical distance to match the emotional one growing between us.
Damien straightened, his tall figure throwing a long shadow on the patterned stone path. He looked down at me with an expression that mixed frustration with undeniable curiosity. “Haven’t you ever wondered why that mark came to you in a dream right before you came here? And how you were ableto switch places with none other than Lady Arya, your own doppelgänger? Aren’t you curious, Cat?”
“No,” I lied, folding my arms defensively even as my heart pounded a rapid tempo, betraying my outward display of disinterest.
He snorted, clearly not convinced. “Very well. I guess I’m the only one who wonders what other forces are at play here.”
I gave a noncommittal shrug, my gaze drifting away from his searching eyes to the surrounding garden. The sun slowly crept toward its zenith, evidenced by the crisp breeze that rustled the leaves and created a whisper that seemed to carry secrets of its own. Birds chirped their morning songs, and the scent of damp earth rose more strongly as the air warmed. The grit of the sandy path beneath my shoes grounded me.
