Page 142 of Emylia

Frozen.

Wrecked.

His fingers reached for the arrowhead at my collarbone, grazing the swell of my chest. Warmth spread through me, claiming every shattered piece of me.

His gaze stayed locked on mine.

“Beautiful,”he murmured—but I had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the necklace.

My insides uncoiled—then snapped taut again, strung so tight I could barely breathe.

“But I think it would be better if you wore something that represented me too. It’s only fair.”He added, voice rough-edged with the kind of violence I loved too much, every word setting fire beneath my skin.

I swallowed hard. “You’d make something for me?”

“In a heartbeat. But I don’t want it to be just anything. I want it to mean something. A token of how I feel about you. A token of my love.”

My heart crumbled to ash at his words. “I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not,” he said gently. “I’m offering it. Freely.”

But I couldn’t accept anything from him. Not when I was about to shatter his world.

“Princess?”Maalikai asked, voice raw with something far too real—roughened by what felt like devotion. His eyes devoured me, slow and soul-deep, like it hurt him not to touch me.

And Gods, it made everything harder.

“What happened last night…”I began, forcing the words out, “can’t happen again.”

A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes, like he thought I was teasing.

“Why?” He leaned against a hay bale, plucking a piece of straw and slipping it between his lips, chewing on the end. Somehow, he looked sin-drenched in fractured sunlight—and it was doing catastrophic things to my resolve.

“Because we would never work.” My voice faltered.

His amusement faded. “Really?”

“Yes.” But even I heard the fracture in my voice.

I couldn’t tell him the truth. Couldn’t admit that Sebastian changed everything. That I didn’t trust myself not to destroy one of them.

Or both.

That maybe I already had.

Choosing between them felt like choosing which half of my soul I could survive without. And the only thing stopping me from letting myself have both of them…

Was me.

“What we are—it’s too complicated. It’s too much.”My pulse thundered as I struggled to speak. “You already make me feel too damn vulnerable.”

His fingers paused where they’d been playing with a lock of my hair.

“You didn’t like being with me?”he asked, voice stripped bare.

“What? No—I did. I mean—” I exhaled hard, like the truth was choking me.

“This is about Sebastian.” His voice was scraped over embers—low, raw, scorched.

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