Page 31

???A Tangle Web

Ember

I woke up with the weight of his arm slung over my waist and the warmth of his breath brushing the back of my neck. It should’ve felt like a trap. It should’ve made me recoil.

But it didn’t.

Not this time.

Instead, it made something in my chest ache. That soft, terrifying ache that started when you knew you were slipping.

He shifted behind me, fingers trailing lightly down my side as if he were still half-asleep, but I knew better.

Dorian didn’t do anything without intent.

“You’re awake,” he murmured against my skin. His voice was still rough from sleep, thick, and low, and stupidly sexy.

I didn’t answer right away. My body was still sore in all the right places, proof of the night before. Of all the nights before. Of how badly I needed him and hated needing him.

“I slept,” I said, pulling the blanket tighter around me. “Barely.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, brushing a kiss against the back of my shoulder. “Might’ve had something to do with the way you were moaning my name until sunrise.”

I twisted under the covers to glare at him. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

A slow grin curled across his face. “Oh, sweetheart. I don’t need to. Your thighs did all the flattering for me.”

God help me, I laughed. Just a little. Just enough.

He kissed my smile before it fully faded, and for a moment, I let him. I let myself forget what this was. I let myself pretend.

But then reality crept back in, like it always did.

I rolled away, sitting up. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

His voice stayed calm, but something behind it flickered. “No?”

“It’s sex,” I said, but even I didn’t believe that anymore.

He sat up slowly, leaning his elbows on his knees as he watched me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t stop solving. “Then why did you agree to be mine?”

I hated that question. I hated it because I didn’t have an answer that wouldn’t betray everything I told myself.

“I haven’t figured out how to disable your little magical prison so I could run away again.”

He chuckled. “The ward isn’t to keep you in. It’s to keep the wrong things out. You’re smart enough to know the difference.”

“You’re the wrong thing,” I muttered, getting out of bed and grabbing the oversized shirt he’d left me. His shirt.

Before the shirt covers my skin, he’s already yanking me back into bed, his voice low and wicked against my ear, “And yet you’re still warm from me.”

Downstairs, he was already in the kitchen when I walked in, the bastard looking unfairly good while pouring coffee like he didn’t destroy lives for a living.

“Morning, again” he said, his grin unapologetic. “Feeling better since once I wore you out?”

“You’re insufferable,” I said, but I took the coffee mug he handed me anyway.

“You say that, but you keep coming back for more.”

“I don’t come back,” I said, sipping. “I just... don’t leave.”

He tilted his head. “There’s a difference?”

“Yes,” I snapped. “One makes me a willing participant. The other makes me a hostage with Stockholm Syndrome and questionable taste in men.”

“And yet, you kissed me first this time.”

I flushed. “Shut up.”

“Tell me to stop,” he said, stepping close. “Tell me to stop touching you. Stop kissing you. Stop holding you like you’re mine.”

I stared up at him, heart thudding. “You’re making this harder than it has to be.”

“No, Ember,” he said, brushing my hair behind my ear, his voice softer now. “I’m making it real.”

And I hated that it felt real.

I turned away, gripping the edge of the counter. “I want to leave.”

“But you haven’t.” He said it so quietly, I almost didn’t hear it. “You could’ve asked. I told you, I won’t stop you. But I will follow.”

I looked back at him, and I couldn’t help the way my body leaned toward his. “Why? Why follow me?”

He reached out, his hand brushing the edge of my jaw with unshakable gentleness. “Because I’ve spent too long walking in the dark. And you’re the first thing that’s made me want to stay in the light.”

My breath caught.

Don’t do this. Don’t fall for him.

But the damage was already done.

Later, I locked myself in the studio he built for me, my private space. It was too thoughtful. Too perfect. Everything in here said I see you in the ways I’d spent a lifetime pretending I didn’t want to be seen.

Dead Wrong was live in five minutes. My podcast had become a lifeline, even if Dorian insisted I never worked alone.

Not since… Everything.

The first few callers were nothing unusual. A woman who believed her dog was possessed. A man who thought his neighbor was harvesting souls in his basement.

Then the fifth call came through.

Static crackled. Then silence. Then… “Hello, Ember.”

I froze.

I knew that voice. But it couldn’t be. It shouldn’t be.

“Mom?” My voice cracked.

But it wasn’t her. Not truly. Just a distortion of her voice, masked by magic or memory, I couldn’t tell.

“You think you’re running a show,” the voice rasped. “But you’re running from the truth. Your mother didn’t die the way you think. She was hiding. Protecting something.”

My skin crawled.

“Protecting you. Because you’re not just her daughter, Ember. You’re her legacy . A Watcher, just like she was.”

“What the hell is a Watcher?” I whispered.

But the call cut out. Dead silence. Nothing but the buzz of the mic and my pulse screaming in my ears.

That night, I dreamed of her.

My mother stood at the edge of a cliff, wind tossing her dark hair, her eyes filled with sorrow.

She looked like she did the day I last saw her, like someone running from something I never understood.

“Ember,” she said, her voice distant and breaking. “You must understand. I didn’t want this for you. But you were always meant to carry it.”

“What is it ?” I asked, desperate.

“You’re a Watcher,” she whispered. “And he, Dorian, he can help you. If you let him.”

I tried to step toward her, but she began to fade. Her hand reached out, mouth still moving as her form turned to mist.

I jolted awake, drenched in sweat, Dorian’s arms already pulling me tighter against his chest.

I didn’t say anything.

I couldn’t.

Because now, I didn’t just want him. I needed him. Not for protection. Not even for the sex.

But for the truth.

Whatever I was… He was the only one who could help me understand it.

And I wasn’t sure if that terrified me… Or saved me.