The emotional weight of everything I’ve shared with Tristan settles over me like a heavy blanket.
My body feels drained, hollowed out from finally speaking the words I’ve kept locked inside for so long. But there’s also a strange sense of relief, like a poison that’s finally been drawn from a wound.
Tristan continues to hold me as I let the tears flow, just this one last time. His hand stroking my hair in that gentle, rhythmic way that always calmed me when we were younger.
His heartbeat is steady against my ear, a metronome that gradually slows my racing pulse. The familiar scent of him – cedar and rain and something uniquely male – wraps around me like a security blanket.
“You’re safe now,” he murmurs against my hair, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere, Ath. You’re not alone
anymore.”
The combination of exhaustion, emotional release, and his comforting presence begins to pull me under. My eyelids grow heavy, and despite everything we’ve just discussed, despite the turmoil in my heart, I feel myself beginning to drift.
“Sleep,” Tristan says softly, as if he can sense my body giving in to fatigue. “I’ll be right here.”
I want to protest, want to say that we need to talk more, that there are still so many things left unsaid between us. About five years ago, we need to quach the barrier it had created.
But my body has other plans. The trauma of reliving my past, combined with the first real sleep I’ve had in months, has left me completely depleted.
I let my head settle more comfortably against his chest, my hand coming to rest over his heart. The steady rhythm beneath my palm is soothing, hypnotic. My breathing begins to sync with his, and I feel myself melting into his warmth.
“Sweet dreams, little wolf,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head.
But as I drift deeper into sleep, something shifts. The quality of light in the room changes, becoming softer, more golden. The harsh edges of reality seem to blur around the edges, and when I lift my head to look at him, everything feels different.
More intense. More possible.
“Athena,” he says, and even my name sounds different in his voice. Not the careful, measured way he usually speaks to me, something heated and reverent. Like a love song.
but
I’m still lying against him, but now we’re facing each other on the bed. The afternoon light filters through sheer curtains that dance in a warm breeze, and everything feels more vivid, more alive than it did moments before.
When I meet his dark eyes, I see something there that takes my breath away. Want. Raw, undisguised desire that mirrors everything
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18:27 Fri, Jan 2 d
Chapter 24
I’ve kept hidden in my heart for years.
He looked at me like he wanted to devour me in a good and kinky way.
“Tristan,” I breathe, his name a question and an invitation all at once.
He reaches out slowly, giving me time to pull away, but I don’t. I can’t. His fingers trace the line of my cheek, so gentle it makes my
heart ache.
I’ve wanted this for so long,” he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. “Wanted you for so long. A those years.
The words I’ve longed to hear for years wash over me like healing rain. Something deep in my chest unfurls, a hope I thought had died years ago suddenly blooming back to life.
“I thought you saw me as a sister,” I whisper back, voicing the fear that has haunted me since.
He shakes his head, his thumb tracing over my bottom lip with devastating tenderness. “Never,” he says firmly. “You were never just a sister to me, Athena. You were always so much more.”
Before I can respond, before I can ask him why he’d rejected me all those years ago, his mouth is on mine.
Comments
R Visitor
he’s not her blood brother, they were raised together.
7 days ago
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
