Page 80 of Run of Ruin

“Stop it!” Bex’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

Everyone froze.

I turned to see her pushing to her feet, swaying, blood streaked down the side of her face, her eyes burning with something fierce and terrible and heartbreakingly brave.

“Please…” she whispered, and somehow the whisper was louder than any shout.

Zaffir stilled beside me, his chest heaving. I released my grip on his collar. He didn’t move.

“Zaffir may wear the colors, but he’s no more Praxis than any of us,” she said, her voice steady though her legs trembled. “I’ve known that for a while now, and I think you have too.”

Zaffir’s gaze found hers, and his face crumpled. A soft, strangled sound escaped him, half sob, half apology.

“I’m sorry,” he choked, tears slipping free now, streaking down his face. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I know,” Bex murmured, crossing the room with painful slowness and pulling him into her arms. His shoulders shook under her touch, grief and guilt breaking him apart.

“I’ll be okay for the interview,” she added, turning her head to look at the rest of us. “I can rest after. I’m fine.”

She was lying. Every one of us knew it. But none of us called her on it.

Zaffir scrubbed a trembling hand down his face and backed away, sinking into a chair like his legs might give out.

I took advantage of the quiet moment and made my way over to her, each step came heavier and heavier like my body was only just catching up with the trauma I’d just put it through. She looked up as I approached, and her mouth curled into the gentlest smile. It hit me square in the chest.

“You scared the shit out of me in there, Hollis,” I whispered as I knelt in front of her. Her hand reached for mine without hesitation, and I wrapped my fingers around herslike I’d never let go again. Like she was the only thing tethering me to this earth.

“You saved my life,” she said softly. I didn’t feel worthy of the words, or of her, but I’d accept them anyway. “Again,” she added, letting out the faintest chuckle, worn at the edges but still somehow light.

“We really have to stop meeting like that,” I offered, trying for humor, though it came out a little strangled beneath the lingering fear still coiled inside me.

Her smile didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened, a little sad now. A little too knowing. “I have a feeling it won’t be the last time,” she murmured. Her gaze dropped to where our hands were joined, like maybe she was grounding herself in the same way I was.

I brought her hand to my lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. She lifted her other hand, curling her fingers beneath my chin and guiding my gaze back to hers.

“Thank you for saving me,” she whispered again, and this time the words settled somewhere in my bones.

“Thank you for staying alive,” I breathed. “And I… I wanted to apologize. For kissing you. Earlier.”

Her expression shifted slightly. Just a flicker of curiosity beneath the calm.

“Not because I didn’t want to,” I rushed to add, heart in my throat now. “God, I did. I’ve wanted to for a while. But I shouldn’t have surprised you like that. You were scared, and I was just so relieved you were alive, and in that moment, it felt like…like it was the only thing I could do. But that doesn’t make it fair to you.”

I hesitated, drawing in a breath I didn’t know what to do with. “And maybe you only kissed me back because you were thankful. Or in shock. I don’t know.” We’ve gotten close over the last few weeks, but she’s never made a move to kiss me.Even with those quiet heat-filled moments we shared in the Wilds, or the way she glances at me when she thinks I’m not looking. I can’t just assume she wants the same thing I do. Or that she feels the same way. “And I need you to know… if you don’t want that… if friendship is all this is for you, I’ll be okay with that. I just… don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything.”

It was the part I hadn’t said out loud until now, the fear that had been quietly gnawing at me since the moment our lips met. I would never want to mistake gratitude for affection, or make her feel like she owed me anything. I couldn’t bear that.

“Briar.” Her voice brought me back, soft but firm, and when I looked up, her eyes were locked on mine. Steady. Clear. “Let me be perfectly upfront about this. I want so much more than just friendship from you.”

For a second, I forgot how to breathe. My heart did something unsteady in my chest, and before I could say a word, she leaned down and kissed me.

Not like before. Not rushed or desperate. This kiss was deliberate and tender. A promise tucked between parted lips and the press of her fingers against my jaw. Her mouth moved with mine slowly, like we had all the time in the world now. And although I knew we didn’t– for this moment, we pretended.

Every stroke of her tongue against mine quieted the doubt. Every sigh between us wiped away the hesitation I’d carried. This was her. Wanting me. Choosing me.

When we finally broke apart, we just smiled at each other, grinning uncontrollably. All girlish and breathless, cheeks flushed and eyes shining.

God, she was beautiful when she blushed. I made a mental note to make her blush more often.

---