Page 130 of Untamed

And when she pressed up against me? When her breath ghosted across my skin like a fucking prayer? That was the first time in years I felt like I could breathe. Really breathe. Not like I was gasping through a straw underwater.

But like maybe,maybe, there was still air in this world meant for me.

And now? Now I’m standing in a gym I built to outrun the past, and the only thing I want to do is find her and fucking beg her to stay with me.

But I can’t.

Because as much as I hate to admit it, they’re all right. I don’t fucking deserve her. I can’t give her the life she deserves. All I can offer her is a world filled with darkness, blood, and violence. A life where she’ll constantly have to look over her shoulder.

Because she doesn’t know the full truth. Because if she did, if she saw the monster Luciano keeps locked in my blood, she’d leave too.

She’d run. And as much as I want to keep her, I wouldn’t stop her.

I swing again, teeth gritted, blood and sweat dripping. And that’s when I feel it, a shift.

Not in the room.In me.

Her fucking presence fills the room. I don’t have to turn to know she’s there.

She doesn’t speak at first. Doesn’t move. And I don’t stop punching.

Because I’m afraid. Afraid that if I stop, I’ll turn to look at her, and I won’t survive the look in her eyes.

The bag swings back, and I catch it with both hands, forehead pressed to the leather like it might hold me together. My chest burns from lack of oxygen that I can’t seem to find.

Still, I don’t turn. Not yet.

She says nothing at first, and that silence? Fuck, it stings more than any blade I’ve taken to the gut.

Finally, her voice cuts through the space between us.

“Does it help?” I freeze.

It’s not because I don’t know what she means. Because I do.

I let the bag go, letting it sway while I slowly turn to face her.

Jordyn’s standing by the door, arms crossed over her chest, eyes unreadable. Not angry, not broken, just... bracing.

“Sometimes,” I answer honestly. My voice like gravel. “Not today.”

Her eyes flick to my shoulder, where the bandage is damp and curling at the edge.

“You’re bleeding again.”

I sigh. “I’m always bleeding, bambina.”

She steps closer, slow and cautious. Like she’s not sure if I’ll let her get near, like she doesn’t know I’d let her close even if it killed me.

The bag sways behind me, forgotten. The sound of the chain rocking hangs in the air.

Her arms are still folded across her chest, but her voice? It’s steady, unwavering.

I watch as she floats closer until she’s standing directly in front of me. Her blue crashing with my brown. “Tell me who you really are, Ares.”

It’s not a demand, but a plea wrapped in steel. As if she’s already standing at the edge of something deep, halfway in, but needing to know if it’s going to swallow her whole.

My eyes drag over her, slow and deliberate, as though I’m trying to build armour out of the sight of her, but it’s no use, becauseshe’s already under my skin. So far fucking deep, it’s impossible to claw her out.

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