Page 37

He stops at the balcony door, which is currently shut, and I watch as he twists the small metal key and pushes the glass pane open. A soft breeze floats inside, causing the curtains to dance.

His gaze lands on mine when his head turns toward me. Dark eyes pierce me, they shine as my inner wolf—that Etienne likes to call me—awakens. The feelings I have been hiding from him come alive as he watches me, and I wonder if he’s trying to look right through me, to the very soul of who I am.

I wonder if this could ever be more than physical attraction. We’re both so broken from what our families put us through. I wonder if he could ever love. If he can’t I think I could survive just having him in my life. I think.

I need him right now though, but I don’t voice my feelings. Fear holds me back from admitting what I want. If he could take me, make me forget the past few months have happened with a harsh, fast fuck, I’d take it.

He stares at me, and I know he can see what’s in my heart, what’s hidden in the depths of my soul. I want him to see it, to find it and to bask in it. But I don’t make a move to get closer to him.

“What’s the time?” I finally ask in an attempt to break the heavy tension between us.

“It’s almost six,” he tells me, and with a quick glance outside, I notice the sun is nearly gone, and the sky has darkened considerably. I’m still tired. My body needs rest, but I can’t close my eyes when he’s here.

I don’t want to lose a moment with him. My feelings for him are foreign to me. With Etienne, I feel different, as if I could have a normal life. But when I think about how torn apart my family is, I know the word ‘normal’ doesn’t fit in my life. Learning my father isn’t really my father, I still feel as if this is all a horrible dream, and I’ll wake up to my old bedroom and Dahlia giggling about something I said. But I know it’s not, because the harsh reality is that Thane is my father.

“I was so tired.”

“You were. It’s understandable.” He smiles at me, his mouth tilting up at the corners, and he takes a couple of steps, closing the distance between us. “I want to ignore this.”

Tipping my head back, I look directly into his eyes and question, “Ignore what?”

“Us.” That one word tumbles from his lips, but it’s not affectionate, he sounds almost broken by the admission. He turns away from me and faces the window.

“There is no us, Etienne,” I remind him. This argument will go in circles if I don’t stop it. “We could possibly fuck, and get it over with,” I suggest, but he doesn’t turn at my words.

I watch as the muscles in his back tense when he feels me near him. The heat of his body is like a fire blazing, and it lights something in me.

“Is that what you want?”

He spins on his heel, almost knocking me on my ass. “I don’t do love, so fucking sounds good.” His voice is gravelly and rough, dripping with desire, before he offers me his hand.

I stare at it for a long while, wondering what I should do. There’s a tether between us, it’s taut, pulled far too tight, and the sexual tension that’s simmering whenever we’re near each other is palpable.

“I never asked for love, and I certainly never wanted you to save me.” My words are true, and he knows it. There’s no denying that he can take me right now, and tomorrow, we’ll fall out of bed sated.

But I have a feeling this thing between us is more than that. I don’t know why, but it’s strong, like a magnet pulling me toward him at every turn. As much as I want to push him away, I also want to pull him closer, and that’s what makes him so dangerous.

He can so easily take my heart if I’m not careful and I would let him because as much as I want to convince myself I can’t love him I don’t know how else to explain my feelings toward him. The fear that I hold onto is the only thing keeping me from running—the fear of not ever seeing Etienne Durand again.

“My mother doesn’t approve of my choices,” he tells me, as if it’s an outburst he needed to get out before something happened between us.

“Of me, or your life choices?”

“You, mostly.” His voice seems far away, as if he’s lost in thought, but I want to bring him back. I need him here, in this room, with me. I allow my fingers to touch his shoulder, and I feel the muscles ripple beneath my fingertips.