Page 12 of Make Me
One side of the corridor is all windows—tall and narrow, framed in black iron and glass so pristine it catches the reflection of every passing breath. Beyond them, a garden glows softly in the moonlight, all silver leaves and mist.
I press my back against the cool glass, fighting to breathe.
The air here is still, tinged with lavender and something older, like ancient magic baked into the stone, soft and silent but ever present.
This is probably one of the off-limit areas, but I don’t care. I just need a second. Just a single moment to think. Or scream. Or curse Spencer into the nearest shadow realm for making me come to this godsdamn party in the first place.
Because if Talon is telling the truth… If heismy mate… Then my worst fears have become my reality and something inside me is actually broken.
The corset of my dress presses tighter now, no longer armor but a cage I can’t escape. It’s not holding me together anymore. It’s squeezing me into something I don’t recognize nor do I like. My pacing starts slowly, measured steps in front of the windows, but soon my fingers are twitching, shoulders rigid, breath uneven, and the residual heat of Talon’s presence still buzzing through my bones.
He said he was drawn to me.
He said heknowsI’m his mate.
Gods, the way he looked at me as if I’d just knocked the wind out of him and he didn’t want it back.
My hands drag through my hair, and I groan into the quiet. “No. Absolutely not.”
I’m not going to spiral over some overpowering, smooth-talking, freakishly gorgeous shifter who thinks just because his wolf has a hard-on for me, I’m supposed to fall into his arms.
I refuse.
Except…
I wanted to.
For several frantic beats of my traitorous heart, Iwantedto believe him. And that’s more dangerous than anything else.
I stop pacing, heart thrumming against the cage of my ribs, and glance at my reflection in the glass behind me. The image staring back doesn’t look like the composed fae I pretend to be.
My cheeks are flushed. My pupils wide. My eyes—damn them—they betray everything I’ve been trying to hide.
“This is why you don’t do feelings,” I whisper, my breath fogging the glass. “This is why you don’t hope.”
I want to blame Talon. Blame the way he said my name like it mattered, the way his voice rumbled like thunder and wrapped around me like velvet. Blame the scent of him—warm cedar and storm-soaked earth—and that ridiculous alpha steadiness he carries like he’s a warrior and savior, all at once.
But it’s not his fault.
It’s mine.
Because he said something else I can’t stop hearing.
“Maybe something’s blocking it for you.”
That’s when I really lost it because he could be right. What if the reason I felt nothing is because I allowed my wolf to be buried so deep, she can’t feel anything at all? What if I bound her so tightly that now, when she’s needed most…she’s gone?
This might not be Talon’s mistake. It might bemine.
I lean against the cold window, shame pressing in all around me. My breath shortens, not with panic, but with the brutal weight of truth.
I did this.
I let my fear, and the shame of being bornwrong, dictate my life. I let the sneers and whispers and cruel, cold stares carve their beliefs into my bones until I started to believe them myself.
I gave away pieces of myself to please people who would never love me whole.
And even now, after years of pretending I’ve moved on, I’m still that broken little girl from Avalon. The one who felt like she never belonged. The one who was always too much fae for the wolves and too wolf for the fae.
