Sweet Hatred Chapter 297: Desperate

The thought was acid in my throat. It burned through the haze of alcohol, through the pulse between my legs, until all that was left was this sick, rotting awareness.

God.

What the hell was I doing?

The taste of whiskey on my tongue suddenly made want to gag. My skin didn’t even feel like mine anymore. I felt... hollow. Like I was watching my own body move, my own lips part beneath his, but the person inside wasn’t .

It was wrong. All of it was wrong.

And it hit ... sharp, brutal... that if I kept going, if I let this happen, I’d be using him.

I’d be taking all the feelings he’d been holding for and turning them into a shield for my own heartbreak.

"Stop," I breathed against his mouth, my hands still on his jaw but pushing lightly this ti. "Sylas, this isn’t a good idea."

He froze, but only barely. His chest rose fast against mine, breath hot, hands still clutching my waist like he wasn’t ready to let go.

"Why not?" His voice was low, rough. "Tell why."

"Because... " My throat closed on the words. "Because it’s not fair to you."

Sothing in his eyes darkened, but it wasn’t anger... it was stubbornness. The kind that scared a little.

"I don’t care about fair," he said, his voice almost shaking. "I don’t care about . I care about you. And if this... " his hands pressed tighter to him, "... is what you need, then take it. Take . Use if you have to."

The floor seed to tilt beneath .

"You don’t an that," I whispered, my voice breaking.

"I do." His gaze locked on mine, raw and unflinching. "If I can be useful... if I can give you even a second where you’re not breaking apart... then I’d give myself up for that. Every damn ti."

Sothing twisted so violently inside I thought I might actually throw up. Guilt, heartbreak, longing... they tangled into one sharp, unbearable knot.

I was hurting him. And he was letting .

And sohow, that felt worse than any pain Kael had ever given .

I could feel it building inside ... this ugly, sour rot that wasn’t just guilt anymore.

It was .

Every flaw, every cowardly choice, every way I’d hurt people and dressed it up as self-preservation... it was all staring in the face now.

God, I was pathetic.

Pathetic for letting myself get here.

Pathetic for wanting soone I didn’t even truly want just because the one I loved wouldn’t have .

Pathetic for tasting another man’s mouth when I knew exactly whose na would echo in my head if I ca apart.

A user. That’s what I was. A selfish, heartbroken, spineless ss who would rather take soone down with than be alone in my misery.

And for one wild second, I almost spat it at him. Almost tore into him with sothing cruel enough to make him walk away... to make sure he never looked at like that again.

But then...

I saw his eyes.

That impossible, unguarded blue that didn’t even try to hide how badly he wanted . Not just my body... .

And I couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t ruin him to save myself.

"Listen..." My voice cracked before I could stop it. "If things go further than this... " I swallowed hard, "... I’ll never forgive myself."

The words hung there between us, heavy and raw. I ant them. God, I ant them.

Because I could handle hating myself.

But hating myself for hurting him?

That was a wound I wasn’t sure I’d survive.

Sylas’ gaze searched mine for a beat too long, and then his lips were at my throat... hot, rough, unrelenting.

"Aria..." His voice was a low rasp against my skin, the vibration sinking into . "I’ve never been this desperate in my life. You have no idea... " His teeth grazed my pulse, and my breath stuttered. "I’ve been starving for you. For months. And you’re right here. "on’t ask to stop."

The words tangled around my ribs, tightening, making it harder to breathe.

God, he ant it. I could feel it in the way his hands gripped , the way his mouth moved like he was trying to claim sothing he’d been denied a hundred tis before.

And for one terrifying second... I wanted to let him.

I wanted to sink into his desperation and pretend it was mine.

But then Kael’s face crashed through my mind. That kiss I’d just seen. The way my chest had split open like it was trying to kill .

"No," I breathed, though it sounded more like a plea than a decision.

Sylas froze, just for a second, his lips still on my skin.

"This isn’t about you," I whispered, forcing my hands between us. "You deserve more than being the person I use to forget soone else."

"I don’t care," he said instantly, pulling back just far enough for to see the wreck in his eyes. "I don’t give a damn about myself. I’d give every part of if it made you happy. Even for a night."

God. That was the worst part... he ant it.

And that’s exactly why I had to stop him.

"I won’t do that to you," I said, voice cracking, "because I could hate myself for a hundred things, Sylas, but hating myself for hurting you... I wouldn’t survive that."

His grip loosened slowly, his forehead dropping against mine, and the air between us burned with everything neither of us could have.

The silence after my words felt like it could shatter glass.

Sylas didn’t move, his breath brushing my cheek, his hands still resting at my hips like he was afraid that if he let go, I’d vanish. The warmth from him should’ve comforted , but instead it pressed into my ribs until it hurt to inhale.

It wasn’t lust anymore.

It wasn’t even temptation.

It was grief, raw and unspoken, hanging between us like smoke neither of us could breathe through.

My chest ached so violently, it almost buckled forward.

"I’m sorry," I said suddenly, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. My voice was thin, breaking at the edges. "I’m so fucking sorry, Sylas. For all of it. For making you feel like you weren’t enough. For... " My throat closed. "For not being able to give you anything back."

He shook his head, but I kept going, because if I didn’t spill it now, I’d drown in it.

"I hate myself for this," I whispered. "I hate that I can’t just... stop everything. I hate that I’m still this... ss."

The look on his face was too much... too soft, too understanding, too forgiving... and it gutted .

Suddenly, I wasn’t just tired. I was done. Done holding up my own walls, done pretending I could outrun the ache in my chest. My shoulders sagged, my head tilting forward until my forehead brushed his.

"I just want to stop," I breathed. "Everything. I want to stop trying, stop hurting, stop... all of it."

Sylas’ hands tightened at my waist, steadying like he knew if he didn’t, I’d collapse.

And for a long, unbroken mont, we just stood there... close enough to feel each other’s heartbeat, but miles apart in every way that mattered.