Page 11 of Axel Martin

“Looks like it.”

She crossed her arms. Defensive. “I should’ve posted the footage. Sent it to someone. I let this go too long—”

I closed the space between us and grabbed her arms gently. Just enough to steady her.

“You didn’t do this.”

“I ignored the signs.”

“You survived the signs,” I said quietly. “Now let me handle the rest.”

She looked up at me then—and for the first time, I saw the cracks in her armor.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

I didn’t tell her not to be.

Didn’t offer lies.

I just said, “Good. Fear keeps you smart. But I won’t let anything happen to you.”

And for once, she didn’t crack a joke.

She just leaned into me.

And let herself believe it.

10

Lark

The fire was dying.

But the heat between us? It was burning brighter than ever.

Axel stood in front of me, chest rising and falling like he’d just walked off a battlefield. I could feel his body, his restraint, the storm of control he was barely keeping in check.

Too much control.

“I know you’re trying to be honorable,” I said quietly, locking eyes with him. “But I’m not looking for a knight right now. I’m looking for someone real.”

His jaw flexed.

“You think I’m not real?”

“I think you’re trying not to feel something that’s already happening.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

So I did.

I stepped in—just enough for my fingers to brush the edge of his shirt. “Let me in, Axel.”

That was all it took. He snapped.

One hand slid behind my neck, the other at my waist, and then he kissed me. Not soft. Not tentative. But with weeksof tension and heat and need poured into one breath-stealing moment.

I melted into it, clinging to his shirt, pressing against him like he was the only solid thing in the world.

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