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When the elevator chimes, indicating Julian has just left, Alaric breaches the distance between us. His scent engulfs me like a warm blanket, and something inside me cracks.

Goddess, I'm not crying because I miss Julian. I’m crying because this was intense. I’m crying because I’ve never had anyone in my corner, but today, it sort of felt like Alaric came to my defense, and it felt good. Correction, it still feels good.

“Fuck,” Alaric groans.

“I’m going to touch you, wild one. I want to examine any sort of damage he did before I contemplate whether I’ll be breaking his legs or hands. Can I do that?”

His voice is tender. Julian’s voice was sinister.

Julian grabbed my wrist without asking for permission.

Yet Alaric…he is asking if he can touch me?

I nod. I’m emotional, I’m a little shocked, and I give Alaric Hells another chance to touch me.

Alaric takes my right hand in his, and my whole body relaxes like he’s the missing piece to my jigsaw puzzle.

“Does it hurt?”

He brings my wrist to his lips, then he…he drops a small kiss on it. That’s enough to make my entire body light up and jump in excitement.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here, Lila. He’ll never fucking touch you again. Not while I—”

I don’t even let him finish that sentence.

Because if he keeps talking like that, if he keeps looking at me like I’m something worth protecting, I might believe it.

I might fall.

So, I wipe my tears quickly, as if erasing them could erase the softness in his eyes. I pretend I don’t see the guilt there, or the pain. I pretend it has nothing to do with me.

Because it’s easier that way.

Because the second I let my guard down, I’ll start hoping again, and hope is the cruelest lie of all.

Alaric saved me today, but he will never be mine, and I’ll never be his.

“What Julian did was nothing, Mr. Hells, so let's focus on the most important matter at the moment. Ethan told me to choose one of the women who’ll accompany you to the banquet next week.”

“Lila—” Alaric growls. His hands twitch at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to touch me, to pull me closer. There’s something wild in his expression, something that tells me he’s feeling this—the bond, the magnetic force that keeps pushing us toward each other.

I don’t let him finish his sentence.

Not when his gaze burns through me, dark and intense, like he knows I’m trying to push him away.

“I’ve already chosen a woman for you from the list. In case you don’t like her, I’ll drop a file on your desk that has three other potential women you can choose from.”

My heart twists in my chest. I shouldn’t care who he picks. I shouldn’t feel the throb of jealousy choking my throat.

But as if he can read my mind, he utters one word that nearly makes my knees buckle.

“You.”

Silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating. My breath catches in my throat.

I shouldn’t feel this way.

But damn it, I do.