Page 100 of Shadowkissed

I should say something soft.

Something measured.

But that’s not me.

I walk right up to him, grab his shirt, and pull him close until our foreheads brush and I can breathe in the promise he’s just made.

Then I say loud enough for everyone to hear:

“Damn right, you are.”

And I kiss him.

Not like the world’s watching.

Becauseit’s watching.

Because I want them to see what it looks like when power meets love anddoesn’t break.

When it chooses tobuildinstead.

When it says:

We don’t belong to your laws.

We don’t need your blessings.

We are our own storm.

And we are not afraid.

Later, as the sun dips behind the horizon and the witches etch new ward-lines along the ruins and the wolves begin their patrols again, I walk hand in hand with Dante through the edge of the woods, our steps easy, our breathing synced.

“I thought they’d try to stop us,” I say softly.

“Theywantedto,” he murmurs. “But they knew they couldn’t.”

I squeeze his fingers. “They’re scared.”

“They should be.”

I glance up at him. “Are you?”

He stops. Turns. And cups my face like I’m something he’ll never get tired of holding.

“I’m not afraid of what you are,” he says. “Not anymore. Because it’s not a curse if youchoosehow to use it.”

“And you?”

His smile is slow, sure, a little wicked.

“I’ve always been a monster in the right light,” he says. “Now I’m yours.”

We’re watched.

We always will be.

But we’re no longer running.

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