Selene woke to the feeling of warmth against her back.
For a moment, she forgot where she was—forgot the choice she had made. But then the weight of an arm draped over her waist, firm and possessive, and everything came crashing back.
Kieran.
The night before.
The way she had given in.
Her pulse quickened as she opened her eyes, staring at the dimly lit room. The air still smelled like him—smoke and cedar, dark and intoxicating.
She should have felt regret.
Instead, she felt alive.
Selene shifted, trying to ease out of Kieran's grasp, but his grip only tightened.
A slow, deep voice murmured against her ear. "Going somewhere?"
Her breath caught as his fingers traced lazy circles against her stomach, sending shivers down her spine.
"I should," she whispered, though even she didn't sound convinced.
Kieran hummed in amusement, pressing a lingering kiss against her bare shoulder. "But you won't."
Selene closed her eyes, swallowing the heat rising in her throat. He was right. She wasn't leaving.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
And that terrified her.
—
Kieran felt the way Selene tensed beneath his touch, torn between wanting to run and wanting to stay.
He knew her too well.
Knew the war waging inside her.
But he also knew this—the way her body responded to him, the way her breath hitched at his touch—was something neither of them could fight.
Not anymore.
She had always been his.
It had just taken her this long to realize it.
His lips brushed against the back of her neck, slow and deliberate. "You can lie to yourself all you want," he murmured. "But don't lie to me."
Selene shivered, her fingers curling against the sheets. "I don't know what this is."
Kieran turned her to face him, his golden eyes locking onto hers. "This," he said, his voice rough with certainty, "is inevitable."
She sucked in a sharp breath, her heart hammering against her ribs.
He wasn't asking.
He was claiming.
And for the first time in her life, Selene wasn't sure she wanted to fight it.