Chapter 49 Fire Against Fire
Sable's POV
The silence after Liora fled was thick enough to choke on. Her scent still clung to the air, a sickly-sweet note that made my wolf snarl in the pit of my chest. My heart thundered so hard it hurt, but Kier didn’t move. His hands were still on me—hot, solid, unyielding.
I pushed against Kier’s chest until the breath left him and his hands loosened. "Don’t you ever—” I started, and it was harder than I thought to say the rest.
“Don’t you ever let me walk into something like that again.”
He swallowed. The bond flared; I felt the heat of it through my blood—soft, stupid, complicated. “Sable,” he tried again, softer now, like he thought gentleness might sew up the gash. “I would never—”
“You would never what?” I laughed, bitter and broken, pushing against his chest again. He didn’t budge. “Tell me the truth Kier. Do you keep women like her on their knees while you claim I’m yours? Is that it?”
His jaw flexed. For a second I thought he’d snap, but instead he leaned down, lowering his voice until it was rough enough to scrape against my skin. “The truth is you’re jealous.”
The word hit harder than a blow. My wolf surged forward, howling, while my pulse betrayed me.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I spat, but the tremor in my voice gave me away.
He smiled—slow, dangerous, the kind of smile that always meant trouble. “If you don’t want me, Sable, why does it burn you to see anyone else touch me?”
I staggered back, hitting the window, the glass wall cool against my spine. My hands curled into fists so tight my nails dug crescents into my palms. I hated him for being right. No matter how far I run. Kier was mine and seeing Liora on him brought out something primal in me.
“You’re twisting this.” My voice was sharp, but my chest ached. “She wants what isn’t hers. That’s all.”
“And what isn’t hers—” he stepped forward, caging me against the glass, “—is me.”
The mate bond snapped taut, a live wire between us. My wolf lunged, desperate to close the space, to claim what was already ours. My body betrayed me, breath stuttering, heart racing.
I forced the words out like armor. “You know what I mean. And stop using the bond against me.”
“I’m not using it,” he growled, close enough now that his breath brushed my lips. “You feel it. You fight it, deny it, run from it—but every time you see me, every time you smell me, it eats you alive.”
“Stop,” I whispered, but my voice cracked, and he knew it.
“Why does your wolf scream for me?” he pressed. “Why do your eyes go wild every time I’m near? Tell me, Sable. Tell me it’s not because you want me.”
His wolf pressed against mine, dominance rolling off him in waves. My knees weakened, my head spinning. The part of me that had built a life on saying no was crumbling, and goddess, I hated how much I wanted to say yes.
I shoved at him again, but this time my hands lingered against his chest, feeling the heat of him through the thin cotton of his shirt. “Because I’m not weak,” I snarled. “And I won’t let you make me one.”
For the first time, something cracked in his expression—not anger, not triumph. Hunger.
“Wanting me doesn’t make you weak,” he said, his voice a low rasp. “It makes you honest.”
“Honest?” I barked out a laugh, but it died in my throat when he leaned closer, his lips a whisper from mine.
“Yes.” His eyes flicked to my mouth, and his voice dropped even lower. “Say you don’t want this. Say it, and I’ll stop.”
The bond seared, my wolf clawing at the inside of my skin. I opened my mouth, desperate to deny him, to hold my ground—but nothing came out. My body betrayed me again, tilting forward just enough that my lips almost brushed his.
His eyes darkened, his control slipping. “That’s what I thought.”
Fury and desire collided inside me, impossible to separate. I hated him for cornering me, hated him for being right, hated him most of all for making me want him even now.
“Damn you, Kier Blane,” I hissed.
And then I broke.
I fisted his shirt and yanked him down, crashing my mouth against his.
The kiss was wild, untamed, nothing like the gentle ones I’d once dreamed of. It was teeth and fire, a clash as much as a claim. His hands locked around my waist, pulling me flush against him, and my wolf howled in triumph, finally free.
The world tilted, the glass wall shuddering behind me as his lips devoured mine. I wanted to push him away and pull him closer all at once, to fight him and fall into him until there was nothing left.
We broke apart only long enough to breathe, our foreheads pressed together, his eyes blazing into mine.
“This,” he whispered, ragged, “is the truth you can’t run from.”
And before I could answer, his mouth was on mine again, sealing the argument with fire.