Page 50 of Blood Marked

He turned away.

“You think the only one breaking here isyou?” she said, voice cracking. “Ichoseto bring you back. And I’ll keep doing it, Kael, even if you don’t want me to.”

He looked back at her, breath sharp. “I want you,” he said.

The words felt too loud. Too raw.

She stilled.

“I want you in ways I shouldn’t,” he said again, quieter. “And not because of the damn bond. Not because of what fate says we are. But because I see you, Selene. All your fire. Your defiance. Your stupid, stubborn heart that walks into danger just to drag me out of it.”

He stepped closer.

“I’m falling in love with you and it’s the worst thing I could do to you.”

Silence stretched. Wind rustled dead leaves at their feet.

Then Selene said, very softly, “Don’t you dare run from me after saying something like that.”

But Kael had already stepped back.

“I have to. I know you know what you are now. That’s good. Maybe you can protect yourself now. From everyone. From me.”

He turned and left without another word, feeling her eyes burn into his back. He wanted nothing more than to turn back around, but he kept the dreams, the warnings burning in his mind, reminding him why he was doing this.

It wasn’t for him.

It was for her.

It was the only way to save her.

TWENTY-ONE

SELENE

He walked away.

Again.

And this time, Selene didn’t stop him.

She stood alone in the garden with the cold seeping through her boots and her fingers curled into fists. The wind kissed her cheeks with a sting, but she barely felt it. Not past the throb in her chest. Not past the weight of what he’d said.

“I’m falling in love with you.”

And then he’d turned like it hurt to say it.

Like it was a confession instead of a promise.

He didn’t look back. She didn’t call after him. Because she saw it in his face—terror.

That was the thing no one talked about with people like Kael. Not the rage. Not the fire. Not the strength.

But thefear.The fear of needing something too much. Of loving something he thought he would break.

She stood there and watched him go and held her head a little higher, forcing the burn of oncoming tears back into their rightful spots.

Selene didn’t let herself cry for boys who ran. Not for court games. Not even for men who kissed her like she was air and then disappeared like she was poison.

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