Page 110 of Watch Me Burn
“I’ve thought I was losing my mind for weeks… months.” I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold the pieces of my shattered world together. “There were so many similarities, so many coincidences. These moments of déjà vu that were too absurd to even contemplate.”
I resume my pacing, moving from the couch to the window and back again, my sock-clad feet silent on the floor. Shadow paces with me, keeping himself between me and Damien.
“But I kept telling myself I was crazy, that it was impossible.” My throat tightens. “I was so foolish. I feel like Lois Lane, too blind and too wrapped up in my own denial to see that Clark Kent was Superman. So stupid.”
“I said, don’t fucking call yourself that.” His voice cracks like a whip, and Shadow’s ears go flat, another growl rumbling deep in his chest.
The demanding edge in Damien’s tone would have melted me before. Now it just makes my blood boil.
“Why not? It’s true.” I turn away from him again, facing the darkened window where my reflection stares back at me—wild-haired, red-eyed, and broken. “I wanted you to be the same person. I ached for it. I berated myself for wanting it. Felt guilty for even thinking it.”
“Luna—”
“That kiss.” I cut him off as I spin back to face him. Tears threaten, but I refuse to let them fall. Not yet. “That’s all it took. The kiss you’ve been denying me for months. One touch of your lips, and everything fell into place.”
“Luna—”
“No! Shut up.”
His jaw tightens, and he takes a step toward me, but I hold up my hand like a shield.
“Why did you do this to me?” Months of confusion and pain explode out of me. “Why the charade? Why couldn’t you just…” My breath hitches. “Why couldn’t you be yourself with me from the beginning?”
He moves to my side table and sets the mask down, shrugging out of his leather jacket. He rakes his hands through those silver streaks at his temples, the ones I ache to grip.
“It’s complicated.”
I said the same thing to him a week ago. It carries the same hollow weight now as it did then.
“Bullshit.”
I move closer, stepping into his space until I have to tilt my head back to hold his gaze. Heat radiates off his body, but I refuse to let it distract me.
“You made me fall in love with two different men, you bastard. Do you have any idea what that’s done to me?” My voice cracks, but I push through. “The guilt I felt? I thought I was some kind of bitch, some kind of slut for having feelings for Damien, for letting him pursue me, kiss me, while my wolf was—”
The words catch in my throat as the full weight of his deception crashes over me. The intimate moments, the whispered confessions in the dark, the way I’d felt torn between two desires that were actually the same man playing games with my heart.
My stomach revolts.
“Oh, God.” My hand clamps over my mouth. I stumble backward, my ass hitting the couch. The room tilts and spins. Bile burns the back of my throat. “I’m going to throw up.”
“You’re not a slut.” His voice comes out soft but edged with steel. He steps toward me. “I’m growing weary of telling you not to say that kind of shit about yourself. I’m the monster here, and we both know it. You’re perfect. Everything I never knew I needed.”
“Don’t.” I jerk backward, keeping a space between us. “Don’t you dare try to charm your way out of this. I’ve had enough of your silver tongue, Damien. Both versions of it.”
He stops, but his whole body vibrates with tension. His gaze drops to my mouth, then my throat, then lower, and I feel it like a physical touch. He wants to touch me, and traitorous heat spreads through my belly, the same heat that’s betrayed me before.
I sink onto the couch before my knees buckle. My elbows hit my thighs, and I bury my face in my hands. Shadow plops on the floor in front of me, nudging my hands with his nose.
“Why wouldn’t you kiss me?” The question slips out, small and raw, but the pain behind it is enormous. “Why wouldn’t you let me—”
My breath catches. I press my palm against my eye.
“I begged you. I fucking begged to feel your skin.”
The memories crash over me. All those nights when I’d pleaded with him, desperate to connect on a deeper level. My hands reaching up in the darkness, his fingers catching my wrists. Pinning them. The word ‘no’ delivered in that cold, final tone.
Night after night after night.
