Fallon
The cold sting of the wound on my side had faded into a dull ache, but the memory of the fight clung to me. The tension, the adrenaline, the moments when I thought I might actually die on that damn battlefieldâit all felt surreal now that the immediate danger was over.
But Kane was still standing next to me, his sharp, calculating gaze never leaving me. The way he'd acted after I got hurtâlike a shadow looming over me, his presence both protective and imposingâit stirred something deep inside me.
I wasn't sure if it was frustration or something else entirely.
"You're going to be fine," Kane said, his voice a low rasp, still filled with that damn intensity. He was focusing on my wound now, carefully working with the cloth he'd torn from his tunic to bind it, his hands steady and deliberate. His touch wasn't rough, but there was something about itâsomething commanding.
I couldn't deny that I liked the way he cared. Even though I didn't want to admit it.
"I can take care of myself," I muttered, trying to pull away from his grip. It wasn't about prideâat least not entirely. I just hated feeling weak. I hated needing help. And I hated the fact that Kane's eyes, even when I wasn't looking, always seemed to know exactly what I needed.
"I know," he said quietly, not looking up from his work. "But sometimes, you need to listen. For once, just let someone else handle it."
His words hit harder than I expected, like an unexpected punch to the gut. I wasn't sure what it was about himâwhat it was about this entire situationâbut I couldn't shake the feeling that the man beside me was more than just a warrior. More than just the ruthless, cold figure he liked to pretend to be. There was something buried beneath the layers, something raw and real that I couldn't put into words.
I should have resented him for it. I should have fought back.
But all I did was stare at him, my breath catching in my throat.
"I didn't ask for this," I muttered, more to myself than to him. "Didn't ask for you to... protect me. Or to care."
Kane didn't say anything right away. The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, like the weight of an unspoken truth that neither of us was willing to acknowledge.
Finally, he met my gaze, his eyes dark and intense, like they were searching for something in me. Or maybe he was just searching for answers in himself.
"You don't have to ask for it," he said quietly, his voice thick with something I couldn't quite decipher. "It's just... what I do. And whether you like it or not, Fallon, you're stuck with me now. I'm not letting you get yourself killed."
I wasn't sure what I felt in that moment. Part of me wanted to argue. Part of me wanted to push him away, to tell him I could do this on my own, that I didn't need anyone.
But there was a softer part of meâa part I didn't want to acknowledgeâthat wanted to lean into his touch, to accept his care, to let him protect me the way he wanted to.
The way he needed to.
"I'm not a damsel in distress," I said through gritted teeth, my voice a little less forceful than I intended.
He smirked, but it wasn't a mocking smirk. It was different, something almost... tender in the way his lips quirked up. "No. You're a stubborn, reckless, irritating pain in the ass. But that's why I'm here. To make sure you don't do something stupid and end up dead."
"I can do stupid things without your help," I shot back, but even as I said the words, I couldn't help the tiny smile that tugged at the corners of my lips.
Kane raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "I'm sure you can. But I'm not about to let that happen."
And then, before I could say anything more, he reached upâhis fingers gentle but firm as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. The gesture was small, but it sent an unexpected shiver down my spine.
Why did something so simple feel so... personal?
The air between us shifted, and for a moment, everything around us faded. The sounds of the forest. The tension from the battle. It was just Kane and me, standing in the aftermath of everything that had happened.
His fingers brushed against my skin, and I was acutely aware of the space between us, how close he wasâhow much I wanted him to be close.
It felt wrong. It felt like something I shouldn't be feeling.
But the way he looked at me, the intensity in his eyes, I knew he could see it too. The unspoken connection that had always lingered between us, ever since we first met.
I was starting to see the cracks in my own armor.
"I don't need your protection," I said softly, more to reassure myself than anything else. But I could tell from the way his eyes darkened that he wasn't fooled.
"No," Kane said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "You don't. But I'm not going to stop protecting you anyway."
The words hung in the air, thick with meaning. And in that moment, I realized the truthâthere was more to Kane than I wanted to admit. More than I could allow myself to admit.
And damn it, it terrified me.
I took a step back, away from him, my heart pounding louder than the rustle of leaves in the wind. "I don't need anyone, Kane. Not like this. Not from you."
But he just stood there, watching me with those eyes that saw too much. Saw into places I wasn't ready to let anyone see.
"Then let me help you," he said, his voice a quiet command.
I wanted to say no. I wanted to push him away, to build a wall between us, to keep my heart safe from whatever this was.
But in the back of my mind, a voice whisperedâYou already know it's too late for that.
I just didn't know how to stop it from happening.