The kiss was fierce and desperate, years of restraint pouring out in that single mont. It wasn’t gentle but raw, reckless, and fueled by everything he had never dared to say.
Candice stiffened in shock at first, her hands pressing against his chest. Her eyes widened, breath caught between them as his lips moved against hers, demanding, unyielding.
“Osman—” she tried to say, but the sound dissolved into a sharp inhale as his grip tightened slightly, not hurting her, just anchoring her there.
For a heartbeat, the world seed to stop for the both of them. Candice’s mind went blank, stunned by the intensity of it. By the way his lips moved against hers with such certainty, such desperation. By the way her body betrayed her before her thoughts could catch up.
Then reality slamd back into place. She abruptly pulled away from him and her hand flew up.
Smack.
Osman barely had ti to register it before the sting blood across his cheek. His head snapped slightly to the side, breath knocked from his lungs more by shock than pain.
Candice’s hand trembled as she lowered it, her chest rising and falling fast. Her eyes burned with fury, disbelief, and sothing close to hurt. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped. “Have you lost your mind?”
Osman slowly turned his face back to her. His cheek throbbed, but he barely felt it. All he could see was her. The fire in her eyes. The way her lips parted as if she were still trying to catch her breath.
“You don’t get to do that,” she continued, voice shaking despite her anger. “You don’t get to decide for . You don’t get to—”
She stopped short when Osman stepped forward again.
Her eyes widened. “Don’t,” she warned, knowing what he was intended to do. She was not blind and she could see how his eyes were burning with desire to kiss her again. But he didn’t listen.
Osman reached out, gripping her wrist gently this ti, not dragging her, not forcing her—just stopping her from retreating. Before she could react, before she could slap him again or hurl another sharp word at him, he pulled her in and kissed her again.
This ti, the kiss was different. Still urgent, still reckless but slower and deeper as if he were pouring every unsaid truth into it.
Candice gasped into his mouth, stunned. For a second, her body stiffened, anger flaring hot and sharp. Her free hand lifted—
But it didn’t strike him. Instead, it hovered between them, uncertain.
Osman felt it. That hesitation. It nearly undid him.
He pulled back abruptly, releasing her wrist, stepping away as if bracing himself.
There it is, he thought grimly. Here it cos. He waited for the second slap but didn’t co. Instead, Cassi surged forward. She grabbed the front of his tunic with both hands and yanked him down to her level, her lips crashing into his with a force that stole the breath from his lungs.
Osman froze for one heartbeat. Then instinct took over. He kissed her back, stunned and aching and overwheld all at once. Her kiss wasn’t angry now. It wasn’t questioning. It was fierce, desperate, and unfiltered, as if sothing inside her had snapped just as violently as it had inside him.
Her fingers twisted in his clothes, holding him there like she was afraid to let go. Osman’s hands hovered for a mont before settling carefully at her waist, grounding himself, grounding her.
The world narrowed to the sharp realization that this mont had been building for far longer than either of them wanted to admit.
Candice tasted so sweet that Osman felt he could spend the entire night doing nothing but kissing his mate, lingering there, lost in the slow tangle of their tongues. He pressed closer, deepening the kiss until both of them were left breathless, caught in sothing neither was ready to pull away from.
Heaven help him, Osman was more than ready to take her right then and there, to claim her and mark her as his. But even as desire surged through him, he knew he could not.
When the kiss finally broke, Candice stayed close, forehead brushing his, her eyes unfocused, her breathing uneven.
Osman opened his mouth. “Candice, I—”
She lifted a finger and pressed it gently to his lips.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
The word was not angry, but it was distant, and the distance left him both alard and confused. Still, she kissed him back, and that alone sent him floating on cloud nine.
For a brief mont, he thought this might be the beginning of sothing between them. Or maybe he was only imagining it, clinging to a hope that existed nowhere but in his own mind.
She stepped back, her hands falling away from him as if she were suddenly unsure what to do with them. Her gaze drifted past his shoulder, unfocused, like she was looking at sothing only she could see.
Osman’s chest tightened.
“Candice,” he said softly, taking a step toward her.
She shook her head.
“I need space,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “Right now.”
He followed her instinctively when she turned away.
She stopped. If looks could cut, he would have been on his knees.
“Don’t,” she repeated, sharper now. “Don’t follow . Don’t talk to . Not tonight.”
Osman clenched his fists at his sides. “I just want to explain.”
“There is nothing you can say this evening that I’m ready to hear,” she replied, not turning around. “If you respect even a little... you’ll let walk away.”
The words hurt more than the slap.
Osman swallowed hard. Every instinct scread at him to close the distance, to pull her back, to tell her everything he’d been holding inside for years.
But he didn’t.
Candice took that as her answer.
She walked away, her steps steady even if her shoulders were tense, disappearing down the stone path that led back toward the cottages.
Osman stayed where he was, staring after her long after she vanished from sight. His wolf stirred faintly inside him, not angry this ti.
Just... alert.
“She felt it,” Osman muttered under his breath.
He didn’t know what would happen tomorrow. But one thing was certain. Nothing between them would ever be the sa again.
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