Selene didn't know when she lost control.
Maybe it was the moment Kieran walked into her apartment, his presence too overwhelming, too familiar. Maybe it was the way his hands traced over her skin, igniting a fire she thought had long been extinguished. Or maybe it had been inevitable from the start—the tension between them, the forbidden pull neither of them could resist.
But now, as she felt the warmth of his lips against hers, the weight of his body pressing her back against the wall, she knew there was no undoing this.
Kieran groaned against her mouth, his grip tightening around her waist as if he was afraid she would disappear. His lips moved with a slow, deliberate hunger, teasing, tasting, claiming.
Selene gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.
She had spent years pretending this wasn't what she wanted.
Years convincing herself that loving Kieran was a mistake.
But right now, she didn't care.
Right now, all that mattered was the way he made her feel—alive, wanted, his.
Kieran pulled back slightly, his breath heavy, his forehead resting against hers. His eyes burned with something dark, something dangerous.
"I should stop," he murmured, voice rough. "But I can't."
Selene swallowed hard. "Then don't."
That was all it took.
A growl rumbled from deep in Kieran's chest as he lifted her with ease, her legs wrapping around his waist. His lips found her neck, tracing fire along her skin, each kiss sending shivers down her spine.
Selene's head fell back, a moan escaping her lips as his hands gripped her thighs, his strength reminding her exactly who he was.
A warrior. A protector. A man who had spent his life fighting battles.
But right now, he was fighting for her.
Her heart pounded as he carried her toward the bedroom, his body pressing against hers with an urgency that matched her own.
But just as they reached the threshold, reality crashed into her like a cold blade.
Damien.
Her stomach twisted, and she suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe.
This wasn't just reckless passion.
This was dangerous.
If Damien found out—if the supernatural bonds that still tied her to him reacted—there would be consequences.
Deadly ones.
Kieran felt her hesitation before she could even say a word.
He stopped, his grip on her tightening as he looked into her eyes.
"What is it?" he asked, voice strained with control.
Selene's lips parted, but no words came out.
How could she explain it? How could she tell him that no matter how much she wanted this—wanted him—the weight of Damien's claim still lingered in the shadows, waiting to tear them apart?
Kieran exhaled sharply, setting her down gently.
His hands lingered on her waist, his touch grounding her.
"You're thinking about him," he said quietly.
Selene closed her eyes. "I don't want to be."
A bitter smile touched Kieran's lips. "But you are."
The silence stretched between them, thick with tension, with need, with all the things they couldn't have.
Finally, Selene stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself as if that would shield her from the storm inside her.
"I can't do this, Kieran," she whispered.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his every movement. "Tell me why."
She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Because if I cross this line with you, there's no turning back."
His gaze darkened. "I don't want to turn back."
Selene's heart clenched.
Neither did she.
But some fires, once lit, couldn't be put out.
And this?
This would burn them both alive.