Page 65 of The Devil's Canvas

Colors blur—streaks of silver and violet folding into themselves, warping into something that doesn’t belong to this world. The shift is sudden, dizzying, exhilarating.

My first instinct is to panic. My second is to hold onto Julian.

I don’t think about it—I just grip his jacket tighter, my fingers curling into the fabric like an anchor. And that’s when I realize…

I’m not afraid.

Adrenaline pulses through me, sharp and heady, but there’s no fear. No hesitation. Because he’s here.

His hands don’t waver. One stays firm on my waist, the other curves over the small of my back, pressing me closer. His warmth bleeds into my skin, steady and deliberate, grounding me even as the world bends.

I feel his presence everywhere.

Not just his touch. Him. The space between us hums primal, ancient, like a thread connecting us to something bigger than either of us. Something that has waited too long to be acknowledged.

It’s too much. It’s not enough.

The movement slows—just enough for me to register the shift. Suddenly, the world snaps back into focus.

My feet slam onto solid ground, my balance wrecked, breath dragging in sharp. The contrast is jarring, my body struggles to adjust to stillness after the breakneck speed of whatever the hell just happened.

Julian doesn’t let go.

His grip tightens slightly, fingers pressing into my waist before trailing upward, slow and deliberate, like he’s testing me. Like he’s waiting to see how I’ll react.

I inhale, but I’m still buzzing, it’s too hot under my skin. The feeling lingers—not just from the teleportation, but from him.

Julian smirks, amusement flickering in his gaze. "Well?" His voice is smooth, satisfied.

I force a breath, willing my pulse to settle. “That was—”

His thumb grazes my hip, a whisper of contact that sends a sharp jolt through me.

Damn him.

"—unnecessary," I finish, ignoring how my voice betrays me—rougher, more breathless than it should be.

Julian hums, tilting his head, gaze dropping to my lips for just a second before flicking back to my eyes. "Liar."

I roll my eyes and really look around for the first time.

The world is no longer spinning, but the pulse of magic still lingers, clinging to the air. I realize we’re home.

I’m in my apartment.

The lights are low, it’s familiar, but something feels different. Like the space has shifted, like it recognizes the change in me. Maybe because it’s not the same place I left earlier tonight.

Maybe because I’m not.

Something unspoken simmers between us, stretching the space, coiling tight like a wire. I should step away, create distance, regain my footing, pretend this isn’t affecting me the way it is. But I don’t. And neither does he.

His hand remains on my waist, casual but deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Like he’s waiting for me to acknowledge that I felt it too. Because I did.

Julian lifts a brow, his smirk slow and knowing. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

My stomach tightens, a flicker of something dangerous curling low. “About what?”

His thumb moves again, tracing a slow, lazy circle against my hip, sending a sharp thrill down my spine that I refuse to react to. "Doing that again."

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