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Kael Draeven

You’re really going to make say it?" I whispered, voice low, nearly lost in the quiet.

Kain’s heart was pounding—I could feel it beneath my fingers. "Maybe. Yes." he said, surprising .

Well, isn’t this so many surprises for a single day? Besides, I never really thought he was going to co here, but here he was.

I moved closer, letting my hand slip to rest at the dip of his waist beneath the covers. My thumb drawing lazy circles, even though my pulse wasn’t calm—wasn’t even close. But I needed sothing to ground , and he was right there, warm and too damn real.

"I’d say... maybe you want to feel sothing more than my breath on your neck," I murmured, every syllable asured, controlled, even though my insides were fraying.

"And maybe," I added, letting my fingers slide up, just under the hem of his shirt, brushing his skin, "you like how I make you feel when I don’t even try."

His skin heated beneath my touch, but he didn’t move. Just as he also didn’t pull away.

And God help , I wanted to forget everything and let that be enough. But it never is, not when it’s him.

I leaned in, letting my lips brush just above his temple, and I felt him shiver. I shifted closer, unable to stop myself anymore.

"Tell , what do you want? You know you only have to say the words, and I will give you whatever you want." I murmured as a matter of fact, "You should know I would do anything for you."

I expected him to open those deliciously soft lips of his and say sothing like, I want you to kiss like you’re going to take my breath away, or sothing like I want you to press into this mattress and make forget every reason I ever told myself not to want you.

Or maybe a much better scenario, where he has his eyes stayed on mine, burning like he was daring to move first, as he whispered "I want you to ruin every inch of distance we’ve kept between us," he might’ve said. "To touch like you’ve been thinking about it every night. Like you’d go insane if you didn’t."

But instead of saying any of those fantasies, he turned to then, and asked, "Is that why you keep throwing yourself into danger? Because of without even caring what happens to you?"

The words hit like a fist to the gut.

I didn’t answer—not because I didn’t have one, but because I didn’t trust my voice. Didn’t trust that whatever ca out wouldn’t crack wide open.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

He looked at harder now. "Do you really think I want that? Or you think I’ll be very okay, overjoyed watching you get hurt for ? Because you deed yourself a hero who always cos to save who? A damsel in distress?"

Hero. That’s what he called . Like I was supposed to wear that title like armor.

But it never felt like heroism. Even when I had covered his body with mine, it wasn’t about being heroic. Not when it was about him.

So I said, "Do you think I won’t do it again?"

His eyes widened, stunned—but I wasn’t done.

"Because I will. Every damn ti." Even knowing what it would cost . Even knowing what it might do to him.

He looked like he wanted to speak, like there was sothing in his throat too big to swallow.

And maybe I should’ve stopped.

Maybe I should’ve just held him.

But I couldn’t.

"Even now, the truth is... I’m pissed at you, and just because I didn’t say it, or the fact that you’re in my bed doesn’t an I’m not."

I let out a breath and tried to steady the storm still raging behind my ribs.

"And here you are talking about being a hero when you wouldn’t stop yourself from getting caught up in trouble! Do you even have any idea how scared I was when I found you in that cellar, and when that alarm went off..."

I closed my eyes. The mory slamd into , fresh and sharp.

"...I thought I lost you."

The words tasted like blood and broken glass.

He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t need to.

He was looking at like he finally saw all of it—all the shit I’d never let anyone else see. The fear. The guilt. The way I didn’t know how to not protect him, even if it destroyed in the process.

And still... All I wanted at that mont was to hold him tighter.

But I didn’t.

Because if I did... I might not let go.

I’m selfish.

I’ve always been.

And he hates selfish people. Hates the way they take, and take, and leave you dry. He’s always going on about acting like a damned saint, and always doing what’s right even when it hurts. Like that’s supposed to make a person whole.

He looks at sotis like I’m the center of his world. Then the next mont, it’s like he sees the devil himself standing in my skin.

And maybe he’s right.

Because I am the kind of person who destroys what I touch.

And people like him? They weren’t made to burn like I do.

They were made to stay clean.

To walk away before they drown in soone else’s fire.

Even now, I knew so damn well he was here not because he wanted to, but because it was the right thing to do. Out of pity. Out of those self-righteous virtues he wears like armor. Because he couldn’t bear the idea of soone who saved his life being alone after everything. That’s the kind of man he is. And to be honest, that used to be a norm to , but tonight, I’m just not feeling it, or maybe it’s the other part of myself that used to be content with those distant smile’s fading.

So I turned to him, forcing the words out past the rising ache in my throat.

"You should go back to the guest room," I said, quietly. "You don’t have to sleep here tonight."

There was a long pause.

I didn’t look at him.

Couldn’t.

Because if I did, I might see disappointnt. Or worse—pity.

And I wouldn’t survive that.

But he didn’t move. Not at first.

God, he makes crazy.

I let out a bitter laugh under my breath. "Of course. You’re doing the noble thing again."

He turned his head, finally looking at . But his face was unreadable.

That made my blood boil even hotter, "Seriously, Kain. Just go."

He stared for a second longer—then slowly, he shifted away from , and just when I thought he would be moving, he drew his knees close, planting his hands on them,

"Co on," I snapped, already getting so irritated at his silence, "Or are you just going to sit there looking like you care again? Look, you don’t have to act like this is more than what it is. You being here doesn’t change anything. And honestly? I don’t need your guilt."

I guess that did sothing to him because he finally looked at . Just for a second before lowering his head back. "I’m not here because of guilt."

It hit like a punch.

I opened my mouth to shoot back sothing cruel. sothing that would push him far enough away I wouldn’t have to deal with this ache in my chest—but he beat to it.

"I don’t... know how to do this," he said, voice strained, and his eyes still cast down. "I don’t talk like you. I don’t say things easily."

That stopped cold.

"I’ve been trying to ignore it. To keep everything clean. Separate." He let out a shaky breath. But it doesn’t work when it’s you."

I stared at him, stunned.

He looked up then. And I saw it, really fucking saw it.

The fear.

The hesitation.

The truth, raw and unguarded, sitting heavy in his eyes.

"You think I don’t feel anything?" he asked, "You think I can lie beside you every night and not think about it?"

My throat tightened.

"Kael..." he whispered,

But I panicked.

"Don’t," I muttered, trying to shove him by his shoulder, even though my hands shook. "You don’t know what you’re saying. Go."

He caught my wrist.

Hold it.

And then—without another word—he pushed back,

And kissed .

Not hard.

Not rough.

But sure.

Certain.

Like he’d made up his mind a long ti ago and was just waiting for to catch up.

I froze.

Every single breath caught in my lungs.

My brain short-circuited.

Because this wasn’t supposed to happen. Not with soone like him. Not with soone who should be walking away.

But he didn’t.

He stayed.

His lips soft against mine, his hand brushing my jaw like he was afraid I’d break.

And for the first ti in a long ti, I didn’t feel like sothing that was broken.

I felt wanted.

Even if I still didn’t understand why.

Even if I was still scared shitless of what would co next.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Because he’s kissing like I was sothing worth choosing.

And I was afraid that if I said a single word—

He might stop.

So I wrapped my hand around his waist and pulled him to sit on my lap as I deepened the kiss.

You are reading Sacred Flame: His Enemy, His Mate (BL) Chapter 90: Him. And him on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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