Page 11 of Make Me
“Not a chance in hell,” she snaps. “Fae don’t make promises they aren’t sure they can keep.”
Interesting. I sensed the magic in her, but the wayshe said that—as if it’s the whole truth and not just a part of it—has my instincts twitching. Something tells me she’s more than she’s letting on. But that’s a truth for another conversation.
“Fine,” I say, voice low. “Then just promise not to run. You’re welcome to use violence if you deem it necessary.”
The spark in her eyes returns, brighter now, and it’s Kasha who steps closer this time. One calculated stride that brings her chest nearly flush with mine. The heat from her skin rolls over me like a rising tide, and in one suspended breath, the rest of the room ceases to exist. No music. No guests. Just her.
“You’re playing with fire, but if you don’t mind getting burned, then sure. I promise not to runimmediatelyafter hearing what you have to say.”
It’s not much. But it’s enough.
I inhale, deep and steady, her sweet scent crashing through me. It takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to bury my face in her neck. I lift a hand slowly, hovering it just over her chest. I don’t touch her. I don’t need to. The fire between us is alive, like energy prepared to detonate as I say my next words.
“You’re my mate, Kasha.”
The words land heavier than I imagined, each one a key clicking into place. There’s so much more I could tell her and plenty I want to add, but I don’t. I wait, painful as that is.
She blinks. Her whole body stiffens like I’ve just declared war.
“No, I’m not.” Her voice cracks, and this time, she takes a step back.
I let my hand fall to my side. “Yes, you are.”
“No,” she snaps again, retreating further. “Because if I were, I’d feel something.”
I move forward, slowly, carefully. Not close enough to touch, but enough that I can still breathe her in. “Maybe something’s blocking it for you. But I know?—”
“You don’t knowme,” she hisses, all fire and fear and something deeper. “You don’t get to make declarations about what I am to you just because your wolf is confused.”
“He’s not,” I say, voice calm but resolute. “It’s instinct. These things can’t be mistaken, Kasha.”
“Well, your instincts suck.” She glances at her wrist, though there’s nothing there. “And look at that. I’ve endured a full minute of this idiocy. I can leave now.”
She storms past me, shoulder brushing mine like a live wire. A spark ignites in her wake, but she doesn’t look back and I don’t follow. Not yet.
I just stand there, her scent still thick in my lungs, her absence echoing through every bone in my body.
She may not feel it, but gods help me, I do.
And I won’t stop until she does too.
Not because I want to force her, but because she needs to know the truth. Only then could I ever consider letting her walk away for good.
Even if it kills me.
Chapter 4
KASHA
The nerve of that man. Calling me his mate like that word wasn’t a dagger he’d hurled at my chest with all the elegance of a drunken warlock. As if saying it would somehow make it real, like he somehow knows I’ve spent countless years of my life hoping I’d have this moment and finally feel peace.
But I didn’t. Not even a flicker. There was no pull. No shimmer of recognition. Not even the faintest hum of magic beneath my skin. Only attraction.
And that’s what really pisses me off.
I shove open the first door I find and slip out of the entertainment room, heels clicking through a corridor that immediately feels quieter, older, and far too intimate for my current emotional state. This area is tucked farther from the heart of the house, where laughter and glamor still reign.
The hallway seems to take inspiration from old cathedrals. Heavy archways made of smooth, pale stone rise above me like sleeping sentinels, each one wideenough to let giants pass. Golden light spills from antique sconces along the walls, casting shadows that stretch and lean like they’re listening.
