Page 90 of Emylia

His gaze collided with mine, liquid amber swimming with something I couldn’t name.

I didn’t know what to say.

Didn’t know how to breathe.

He just stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time. Like I had told him something that made him question his own existance.

“No.” His voice was sharp. Not loud—but commanding.

“Don’t do that. Don’t youdaredo that.” I blinked, startled by the sudden fire in his tone. “You think I made this up? That I imagined you into someone good and strong and worth loving?” He shook his head, jaw clenched, eyes blazing now. “I’ve seen you, Em. At your best. At your worst. I’ve watched you fight for people who didn’t deserve it, carry burdens that should’ve broken you, and still find a way to protect everyone but yourself.”

“Bastian…” My voice broke around his name.

Amber faltered as his gaze caught mine, startled—like he hadn’t expected me to fall apartnow.But I was already crumbling.

“I’m not that girl.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “I’m not soft. Nor gentle. I’m not… good.” My throat burned. My vision blurred. “I try to be. I do. But I mess everything up. I hurt people I love. I say the wrong things, push too hard, fall too fast and never in the right direction. I’m always too much or not enough, and—” I cut off, dragging in a shaking breath. “You see something in me that isn’t there.” I pressed a trembling hand to my chest, as if that would hold the shattering pieces together. “And one day you’re going to wake up and realize I never deserved even a fraction of your love.”

He closed the distance between us, his air becoming mine and it took everything inside me not to close the distance between us and claim him like I wanted.

“Don’t you dare sit there and tell me you’re not good. That you’re not enough. Because if you weren’t—if none of that wasreal— then Gods help me, I don’t know who I’ve been in love with all these years.”

Silence.

Obliterating.

Soul-crushing.

“And if Maalikai doesn’t see what I see?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Then he doesn’t deserve you either.”

All I could feel was the heartbreakingly raw ache in my chest—clawing through me until it claimed me entirely. He thought I deserved all of that. All that love, all that devotion. And here I was, not even knowing how towantit properly. So, how could I believe I was worthy of any of it.

The breath between us pulsed like something about to shatter. The quiet felt like something sacred—like a prayer whispered too late, left unanswered by the Gods. It lingered like a divine test, sharp-edged and waiting to see which of us would bleed first.

And then I broke.

A sob tore through me—raw and ragged, pulled from someplace deep and aching. I pressed a hand to my mouth like I could stop the feelings from spilling fourth, but it was too late. The tears came hard and fast, spilling over as the weight of everything finally collapsed in on itself.

All the guilt.

All the doubt.

All the love I didn’t know how to carry.

More than anything else in this world, I wanted Sebastian to be right. I wanted to believe I was good enough. I wanted to mean something, but I had trouble believingIcould be worthy enough of anyone’s love.

Both of them deserved better than me, deserved so much more than what I had to offer. Which was defiance and stubbornness mostly.

Sebastian didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He just opened his arms. And Gods, Ihatedmyself for collapsing into them—but I did.

Because even if he wasn’t mine, he was still myeverything.

He had no expectations.

No demands.

Just that simple, steady warmth.

We sat there in the quiet, our hearts still cracked open—bleeding for things we couldn’t say.

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