CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I stormed into my room, slamming the door behind me so hard I thought the walls would shatter. My back pressed against the wood, chest heaving, and for a long moment, I just sat there. My fingers dug into my palms, trying to anchor myself while the memories swirled. Ronan's silence, Nahila's accusations, Kael's fear—they all mashed together into a storm I couldn't quiet.
I pressed my face against my knees, feeling the sting along my cheek where Nahila had struck me. Pain, anger, guilt—they tangled inside me, sharp and insistent. My chest ached, tight and unyielding. Maybe Ronan had never cared the way I thought he did. Maybe he wouldn't have waited, wouldn't have begged, wouldn't have loved me the way I needed. And maybe I didn't even deserve it.
A soft knock broke through the roar in my head. My heart thudded, instinct urging me to retreat, to hide. "I don't want to talk," I whispered, voice trembling.
"I know I wasn't there when you needed me," came Kael's voice from the other side of the door, low and urgent. "I know I failed you. But I love you. I've always loved you. Let me in. Let me be here with you."
His words hit me like a lifeline through the storm. Love. His love, unwavering, even after everything. I bit my lip, tears threatening, my body still shaking from the fight and from my own thoughts. "I… Kael, I—" My voice cracked. I wanted to push him away, to retreat, to believe Ronan had been right—that maybe I didn't deserve anyone's love.
"Please," Kael whispered, desperation threading through every syllable. "Don't shut me out. I can't do this without you. I won't."
Something in me broke. I couldn't stand the thought of pushing him away, not now. Not after all the chaos. Slowly, deliberately, I rose and unlocked the door. My hand shook as I pushed it open.
Kael was there, his eyes wide, pleading, trembling slightly. His hands reached for me, and I let them. I didn't step back. Instead, I brushed my fingers against his chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the steady beat of his heart. For the first time in hours, the weight in my chest eased, just a fraction.
Without thinking, I kissed him. The pressure of my lips against his was urgent, desperate, a claim that I needed him here, now. His arms closed around me, firm and unyielding, holding me tight. My body pressed against his, and I let the tension, the anger, the guilt, and the longing all melt into the contact.
He pulled back slightly, searching my eyes. "Are you sure?" His voice was low, trembling. "We can stop… we can slow down if you want—"
I shook my head, pressing closer. "I… I need this," I whispered. "Please… don't stop."
His lips found mine again, his hands roaming my back, tracing the curves of my sides with reverence. Every touch sent shivers racing through me, grounding me, making me forget the chaos outside this room. I pressed against him, feeling warmth spread through me, and for the first time in days, I felt safe in the storm.
Kael lifted me effortlessly, seating me on the bed while he remained standing. My legs instinctively curled around his waist, pulling him closer. His hands explored my sides. Every brush of his fingers, every careful touch, made me tremble—not from fear, but from something deeper, something I had been denying myself.
He paused, his gaze locking with mine. "You're sure?" His voice was rough with emotion, vulnerability shining through.
I nodded, pressing my lips to his again. My hands ran along his shoulders and chest, feeling him fully, claiming him as he claimed me. The fabric of our clothing shifted and fell, barriers dropping away. His hands cupped my sides, brushing over my skin, tracing every line, every curve. I arched instinctively against him, pressed closer, needing him to feel me, needing to feel him.
I kissed down his neck, lips brushing over his collarbone, tasting him, claiming him in my own desperate way. He held me against him, hand in hand, heart pressing against heart. Every caress, every sigh, every whisper carried weight—weight of longing, of pain, of need, of love.
I let my hands roam freely, tracing his form, pressing into him, feeling him fully as he explored me in turn. Every shiver, every gasp, every beat of our hearts intertwined in a rhythm that made the world outside vanish. My mind spun, a whirlwind of guilt, anger, heartbreak—but in this moment, it all melted away into warmth, closeness, and intimacy.
He looked at me, eyes dark, intense. "Are you sure?" he asked again, voice trembling, a mirror of my own hesitance and need.
I pressed my lips to his, letting my hands claim him fully, molding to his body, letting the trust, desire, and emotion flow unrestrained. "I want you," I whispered. "Don't stop."
He lifted me fully onto his lap, hands sliding over my body, feeling every curve, every contour. I pressed against him, letting my warmth meet his, my heartbeat echo his, letting every touch be a testament to connection. His lips trailed down my neck, over my collarbone, and I shivered with need and relief, pain melting into something tender and consuming.
We moved together, perfectly synchronized, lost in the intensity, the intimacy, the closeness. Every kiss, every caress, every press of skin against skin carried meaning, emotion, and desire. Ronan's memory, Nahila's confrontation, all the heartbreak—it was all being washed away by the living, breathing presence of Kael.
And in that moment, amidst the heat, the trembling, the sighs, I realized something I had been denying: maybe Ronan hadn't deserved my love after all. Maybe fate had twisted our paths to bring me here, to him, to this connection that was raw, real, and alive.
Time became meaningless. Minutes, hours—I couldn't tell. Only the intimacy, the closeness, the fire and warmth and mutual need mattered. When he finally held me, still and steady, breath mingling with mine, I let myself rest, let myself exist in the moment without guilt or anger or fear—just me, him, and the undeniable bond we shared.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt whole.