Page 10 of Make Me (Immortal Vices and Virtues: All Hallows’ Eve #1)

TALON

I f it weren’t for Kasha, I might’ve let my wolf tear that smug witch limb from limb. The only thing that kept me from unleashing hell was the way Kasha squeezed my arm before we left. It was as if she was anchoring me to her, to the possibilities of what we could have if everything goes right.

So, for now, Natalia gets to live.

But if something happens to Kasha during that spell, if she’s left hurting even in the slightest, I won’t hesitate. No negotiations. No second chances.

Just the thought of things going wrong makes my hands twitch, but Kasha hasn’t let go of me.

Not once. Her fingers stay curled around mine, almost as if she’s testing whether the universe will let her keep this moment.

And I’ll make damn sure it does by remaining the steady presence she seems to need right now.

She leads us through the streets of Crossroads, her pace measured but unhurried.

Magic still lingers faintly in the air, the remnants of the ball buzzing just beneath the surface.

Paper lanterns drift overhead, their glow casting gold patterns on the cobblestone.

The moon is full, hanging low over the rooftops like a watchful eye.

“We can wait here,” she says as we enter a secluded park tucked between ivy-wrapped buildings. It’s quiet, almost too quiet, but peaceful in a way that feels like the world has slowed just for us. “There won’t be many people out tonight. Most of the town’s still at the All Hallows Eve ball.”

I nod as we settle on a worn, wooden bench beneath the sprawling arms of a willow tree. “Do you want to go back?” I ask gently. “You didn’t get to stay long.”

A soft laugh escapes her, airy and effortless, and it melts into the night. “Absolutely not. I never even wanted to be there, but my friend Spencer basically forced me to go.” She looks up at me, her willingness to trust me clear in her gaze. “I guess I’ll get to tell her she was right.”

I tilt my head. “About what?”

“She said tonight could be life changing for me.” Kasha shrugs, a wistful smile lingering on her face. “Even if I can’t bring my wolf back, everything has still changed.”

She’s right. No matter if she can or can’t fully feel the bond yet, it’s wrapping tighter around me by the second. A thread pulled taut between us, one heartbeat away from snapping into something irreversible.

Kasha turns toward me on the bench, tucking one leg beneath her as she faces me. “So, tell me, Talon. What brought you here?”

“You,” I say without hesitation. “I didn’t know I’d find you tonight, but I hoped. I’ve been searching for you for decades.”

Her lips part slightly, breath catching. “For me?”

“Well, not you specifically,” I clarify, giving her the barest smile. “But my mate. I used to be a tracker, one of the best in the supernatural realms. I could find anyone and anything. Except the one person who mattered.”

Her throat works around a swallow. I can see the weight of it settling in her posture, the truth of what I’m saying beginning to take root.

“But I gave it up,” I continue. “The work. The contracts. The travel. I told myself if I was going to find her— you —I needed to stop hunting and start listening. When that invitation arrived, something in me said go . Crossroads wasn’t on my map.

Hell, I didn’t even know it was on anyone’s map.

Just another speck in No Man’s Land, forgotten by time and burned by war. ”

I glance around the park, at the moonlight painting silver across the grass, the careful way the trees are tended, the distant scent of magic and renewal that lingers here.

“If I’d known what I’d find,” I murmur, my eyes locking on hers, “I would’ve come much sooner.”

Kasha turns her gaze away, but I reach out and gently brush my knuckles along her cheek, coaxing her to meet my eyes again.

Her skin is warm beneath my touch, her breath catching slightly.

“I’m sorry if that was too much,” I murmur.

“I’ve waited a long time for you, and I don’t always know how to hold back. But I’ll try if that’s what you need.”

She doesn’t answer right away. Her mouth parts, then presses together again. Finally, she shakes her head, a slow smile curling her lips. “No. You should be exactly who you are.”

Then, with a spark of mischief that makes my heart stutter, she adds, “Actually, I quite like it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a lot to get used to—having someone look at me like they see every part of me and still want more. But I don’t want you to stop either.”

A breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding releases all at once.

Thank the gods.

I lean back slightly, giving her space even though my body’s already memorizing the warmth between us. “What about you?” I ask. “How long have you been in Crossroads?”

I keep the question rooted in the present. The past, I can tell, still carries too many sharp edges. But if I’m lucky, I’ll have the rest of our lives to learn about those wounds.

She hums, considering. “A few years,” she says.

“It wasn’t always this peaceful, though.

The rumors about Crossroads weren’t wrong.

But when the portal to Tartarus opened, something changed.

People started working together more. The factions stopped clashing quite so often.

It started to feel less like a battlefield and more like a community.

” Her voice softens. “It’s become a real home for a lot of us. ”

I nod. I’d sensed the quiet strength in this place. The way magic seems less like a weapon here and more like a pulse, steady and welcoming .

“We even have our own pack now,” she adds with a faint smile.

That part intrigues me, but it’s not what holds my attention. What does is the way she glows beneath the starlight, every word she speaks weaving a little more of her soul into mine.

She continues sharing pieces of her life, and I answer the questions she tosses back. Most of them wondering about my tracking jobs, the strange places I’ve been and even stranger things I’ve been hired to find.

“I still can’t believe someone paid you to track down a rock,” she says, laughing in a way that makes her entire face glow. “Like, what even was it? A pet rock with trust issues?”

I chuckle, the sound rumbling low in my chest. “It was supposedly a ‘sacred heirloom.’ Turned out to be a painted river stone some half-demon, half-witch lady believed brought her luck.”

Kasha shakes her head, giggling. “That’s so freaking weird.”

“You asked for the oddest thing,” I remind her, grinning. “That definitely takes the prize.”

The laughter fades into something softer, more thoughtful, and she glances down at her phone. She’s done that a few times now—checked the time, tapped the screen, fidgeted with the corner of the case.

Nerves.

I don’t blame her. What she’s trying to do could change everything. Or it could tear her apart.

Gently, I place my hand over hers. “You’re going to be okay, Kasha,” I say, my tone low but steady. “Whatever happens next, I won’t let anything hurt you. Not while I’m breathing.”

She doesn’t answer, but her fingers turn slightly beneath mine until our palms are pressed together, her grip tightening just enough to tell me what she’s not ready to say aloud.

She’s scared, and that’s okay, but she needs to know she’s not alone in this. Not anymore.

“I promise you?—”

She cuts me off with a shake of her head. “Not even the gods can make promises like those. But I appreciate that you want to try to protect me. There aren’t many people in my life who I can say would do the same.”

Even with my heightened wolf senses, I can’t get a clean read on her emotions.

They’re a swirl, bittersweet and brittle, warm and wounded.

It’s maddening, not knowing how to help ease the pain she never should have gone through.

But then she looks up again, and the mask she’s worn since the moment we met slips just enough for me to see the vulnerability beneath.

And I swear, I’ll never take it for granted.

“I feel like I’ve been made of glass this whole time, instead of the steel I pretended to be,” she says softly. “Like I hardened just enough not to break, but I haven’t been whole in years. The tiny shards have always just pointed inward, for only me to see.”

I keep my gaze trained on her, holding her hand tighter. “Maybe it’s time to stop keeping yourself together with the pain. ”

She gives a broken laugh, the sound laced with exhaustion and something close to surrender. A single tear escapes down her cheek, glistening in the moonlight before I catch it with the pad of my thumb.

“Maybe you’re right,” she murmurs.

I move from the bench, kneeling in front of her. My hands find hers again then trail up her arms until I can cradle her face. Her breath stutters as I position myself between her legs, but I leave enough space for her to pull away, to say no. Every movement is an offering, not a demand.

Her lashes lower then lift again, her gaze sweeping across my face like she’s memorizing me in case I vanish. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice cracking.

I lean in, my forehead resting against hers, the space between us thinning to something electric as I wait for her to look at me again. Only then do I ask permission to do what I’ve been dying to since finding her at that bar. “May I?”

I give her the opportunity to break this moment. Hell, I expect her to, but then…

She tilts her head forward until her lips find mine, and in those seconds, it’s not fireworks or storms or grand explosions.

It’s homecoming .

Her lips are soft but certain, her fingers tangling in the fabric of my shirt like she needs the anchor more than her next breath.

The kiss deepens naturally, as if we’ve been chasing this moment across lifetimes.

There’s no rush, no urgency. Just ease and closeness and the shattering truth that I will never, not once, stop choosing her.

Because this woman is everything I’ve been missing and more.