Page 28 of Beneath His Robes

“We both know what’s happening here.”

I looked up at him, unable to look away now. The snow had fallen heavier, the world around us gone still, but the tension between us was all I could feel. All I could see.

He was right.

I hadn’t stopped thinking about him. Not once in all these years. But I wasn’t allowed to feel this. I wasn’t allowed to want this. I pulled my arm away from him, the movement jerky, my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn’t breathe.

“You’re right,” I whispered hoarsely, though I wasn’t sure what was more true—the fact that I was trying to fight the inevitable or that I didn’t want to fight anymore.

I could feel the weight of my collar pressing against my neck, a constant reminder of the promises I had made, the vows I had taken.

But Ronan didn’t move back.

He was still there, still too close. His breath mixed with mine in the cold air, and I hated that I could feel his warmth seeping into me, making my resolve crumble.

“You know I can’t do this,” I said, my voice quieter now, strained. “I can’t be with you.”

But his eyes—his eyes never wavered. They were full of that same burning, dangerous desire. It was the same thing I’d seen in him all those years ago.

“I’m not asking you to choose,” he said, his lips almost brushing mine now. “I’m just asking you to stop pretending you don’t still want this.”

The words hung in the air between us like smoke, thick and suffocating. My breath was coming in short, erratic bursts. The cold was still there, but it was nothing compared to the fire in his eyes. I could feel it, his need, his pull. And I could feel the same thing deep within me, threatening to break through the walls I’d built.

I closed my eyes, trying to steady myself, but all I could hear was the sound of my heartbeat, loud, frantic, and completely out of my control.

I pulled back from him, my breath still ragged in my chest. The cold air cut through me like a blade, but it couldn’t numb what was happening inside me. My heart pounded in my ears, and my hands shook with a mixture of desire and fear. The snow around us seemed to grow colder, more suffocating, as if the world itself was pressing in, reminding us of what we couldn’t have.

Ronan didn’t move.

His eyes were locked onto mine with an intensity that felt almost possessive like he was daring me to look away. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t look away from him now, not after everything.

“Why are you still doing this?” I said, my voice strained, as if speaking would somehow keep me grounded, tethered to the reality I had tried so hard to build.

He didn’t answer immediately, and in the quiet, I felt the weight of his gaze, the heat of his presence still surrounding me, even though he hadn’t moved an inch. The air between us felt charged, like the calm before a storm.

“I’m not doing anything, Elias,” he finally said, his voice a soft growl that sent a shiver down my spine. “You’re the one holding back. I’m just here, standing in front of you, the same as I always was. You’re the one who’s changed.”

His words hit harder than I expected, but he was right.

I had changed, but I wasn’t sure if it was for the better anymore.

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog in my mind and stop myself from falling into something I couldn’t control.

“I can’t…” The words caught in my throat.

“You can,” Ronan interrupted, stepping forward just a little. I could feel the heat from his body through the layers of our clothing. “I’ve always known you could. The problem isn’t that you can’t. The problem is that you won’t.”

I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to give in to him. The pressure of his words and presence was like a vise squeezing around my chest. But even as I tried to hold onto my resolve, it was slipping away like sand through my fingers.

“You think this is easy for me?” I rasped, my hands trembling at my sides. “You think I want to feel this? To want you?”

The words hung between us, raw and jagged.

“I know it isn’t easy.” Ronan’s voice was softer now, and I saw something flicker in his eyes—a pain I had long forgotten.

He reached out again, this time taking my hand in his, the warmth of his touch shocking in its familiarity.

“But don’t you see? We don’t have to make it complicated. We never did.”

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