Page 21 of Make Me
I chuckle, the sound rumbling low in my chest. “It was supposedly a ‘sacred heirloom.’ Turned out to be a painted river stone some half-demon, half-witch lady believed brought her luck.”
Kasha shakes her head, giggling. “That’s so freaking weird.”
“You asked for the oddest thing,” I remind her, grinning. “That definitely takes the prize.”
The laughter fades into something softer, more thoughtful, and she glances down at her phone. She’s done that a few times now—checked the time, tapped the screen, fidgeted with the corner of the case.
Nerves.
I don’t blame her. What she’s trying to do could change everything. Or it could tear her apart.
Gently, I place my hand over hers. “You’re going to beokay, Kasha,” I say, my tone low but steady. “Whatever happens next, I won’t let anything hurt you. Not while I’m breathing.”
She doesn’t answer, but her fingers turn slightly beneath mine until our palms are pressed together, her grip tightening just enough to tell me what she’s not ready to say aloud.
She’s scared, and that’s okay, but she needs to know she’s not alone in this. Not anymore.
“I promise you?—”
She cuts me off with a shake of her head. “Not even the gods can make promises like those. But I appreciate that you want to try to protect me. There aren’t many people in my life who I can say would do the same.”
Even with my heightened wolf senses, I can’t get a clean read on her emotions. They’re a swirl, bittersweet and brittle, warm and wounded. It’s maddening, not knowing how to help ease the pain she never should have gone through. But then she looks up again, and the mask she’s worn since the moment we met slips just enough for me to see the vulnerability beneath. And I swear, I’ll never take it for granted.
“I feel like I’ve been made of glass this whole time, instead of the steel I pretended to be,” she says softly. “Like I hardened just enough not to break, but I haven’t been whole in years. The tiny shards have always just pointed inward, for only me to see.”
I keep my gaze trained on her, holding her hand tighter. “Maybe it’s time to stop keeping yourself together with the pain.”
She gives a broken laugh, the sound laced with exhaustion and something close to surrender. A single tear escapes down her cheek, glistening in the moonlight before I catch it with the pad of my thumb.
“Maybe you’re right,” she murmurs.
I move from the bench, kneeling in front of her. My hands find hers again then trail up her arms until I can cradle her face. Her breath stutters as I position myself between her legs, but I leave enough space for her to pull away, to say no. Every movement is an offering, not a demand.
Her lashes lower then lift again, her gaze sweeping across my face like she’s memorizing me in case I vanish. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice cracking.
I lean in, my forehead resting against hers, the space between us thinning to something electric as I wait for her to look at me again. Only then do I ask permission to do what I’ve been dying to since finding her at that bar. “May I?”
I give her the opportunity to break this moment. Hell, I expect her to, but then…
She tilts her head forward until her lips find mine, and in those seconds, it’s not fireworks or storms or grand explosions.
It’shomecoming.
Her lips are soft but certain, her fingers tangling in the fabric of my shirt like she needs the anchor more than her next breath. The kiss deepens naturally, as if we’ve been chasing this moment across lifetimes. There’s no rush, no urgency. Just ease and closeness and theshattering truth that I will never, not once, stop choosing her.
Because this woman is everything I’ve been missing and more.
Chapter 8
KASHA
Talon’s hands cradle my face like I’m something sacred, and I let myself return the kiss like maybe Iam.
And for the first time in years, the hollowness doesn’t win.
This closeness should terrify me. It’s too soft. Too gentle. Tooreal. And after everything I’ve endured—everything I’ve buried and pretended not to be—I don’t know what to do with something that feels this…right.
Even still, I don’t pull away.
