Chapter 132: Decision - Callista's POV

He went completely still for one solid minute before kissing me back. It wasn’t careful or controlled. This kiss was him giving in. He stopped thinking and just did it.

I guess that six days of me lying on the bed and not knowing when I’d wake up probably pushed him past his breaking point.

His hands found my face, tilting it up, and the bond surged between us so warm and sudden that I felt it in my chest like a struck chord. I gripped the front of his shirt as he walked me backward.

It wasn’t aggressive, but it was utterly without hesitation. One step, two, then three until my back found the wall beside the door and he was close enough that his heat penetrated through my clothes, warming me. He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes red-gold and bright.

“Callista, what do you think you’re doing?” He asked, my name sounding different from it usually did. “You can’t just kiss me like that.”

“Yes, I can,” I muttered. “You’re my mate. Don’t stop kissing me.”

Something moved through his expression that was equal parts amusement and something considerably warmer than that.

"I wasn't planning to," he murmured. “But we still have just under five weeks until the ceremony. I think we need to take a moment to breathe. There has been so many things—”

I grabbed his face and yanked him down, kissing him again. He kissed back, slower this time.

"Your birthday," he whispered against my lips.

"My birthday," I confirmed.

"Four weeks and six days."

"You've been counting."

“I’ve been counting since you came back and we said we’d do this,” he said, and those words landed hard.

I pulled back just enough to look at him properly. He was watching me with an unguarded, open expression that only existed when he stopped trying to fight something. I hadn’t seen it often, but knew enough to know that was it.

“Four weeks and six days,” I repeated softly.

“And then it’s done,” he said just as quietly. “We’ll bind ourselves fully and that will seal away the demon.”

He exhaled through his nose and leaned his forehead down against mine. We stayed like that for a moment in the pale light coming through the gap in the curtains, close enough that I could feel his heartbeat through the hand I still had pressed flat against his chest. It was faster than usual. He would never admit that out loud and I would never mention it.

"We should go downstairs," he said, taking a breath. “You need to eat.”

"We should," I agreed, and neither of us moved.

He laughed then, quiet and genuine, and I felt it more than heard it. The demon was quiet.

"He doesn't like this," Riven said, though his tone suggested he found this fact deeply satisfying.

"He can't use it," I murmured. "Every time we stop holding back from each other, it closes something he could have worked through." I looked up at him. "We're starving him. I can’t believe we ever questioned the dream I had in the beginning about the bond being what saves you.”

Riven considered this for a moment. "Good," he said simply. “I tried not to doubt it, but he was so back and forth. It clouded my mind more than I should have let it.”

He straightened and stepped back, though his hand found mine as he did, the way it had been finding mine all morning without him seeming to decide to do it. I let him lead me toward the door before we got too carried away.

"Riven."

He looked back at me.

"When we go downstairs," I added. "And we tell them everything. Your father is going to want to control the plan. He's going to have opinions about how the confrontation with his brother should be handled and when and what you should say." I held his gaze, trying not to show doubt or fear. "Don't let him."

Something shifted in his expression, then darkened.

“This has to come from you,” I whispered. “Ronan has done enough and now we need to save ourselves, even if it means you won’t ever be the Alpha King.”

Riven was quiet for a moment. "You think he'll try to script it or throw something else into our plan.”

“I think he plays a bigger part than we realize and we need to be on our guard,” I mentioned, then looked away. “The Moon Goddess wouldn’t lead me wrong. I don’t think the demon was able to portray her.”

He looked at me steadily for a moment, then nodded once decisively.

We went downstairs without waiting any longer. There was no reason to put this off.

The kitchen was warmer than the rest of the mansion, which I found a little odd. No one had been cooking there to generate heat. I dismissed it when I noticed bread on the counter.

Riven moved around, collecting a few things from the refrigerator and laid it out beside the bread. He set two plates out, sliding one in front of me.

I looked at it, then at him.

“Make a sandwich, but make sure it has enough meat on it,” he said firmly. “If it doesn’t, I’m adding more to it.”

I did as he instructed and piled the sandwich high, knowing that if I didn’t, he would follow through on what he said. He seemed satisfied by the time I had finished, so I ate.

The bond between us warmed as he finished making his sandwich and sat down beside me. We said nothing as he ate. It was almost peaceful, which was a word I hadn’t previously associated with anything connected to this curse.

Almost.

But underneath the quiet, the warmth, the food, and his hand resting near mine, I knew this peace would never last. Not until after we had sealed the demon away forever and found his freedom.

Four weeks, six days. That’s all we had left.

As soon as we were finished eating, he looked over at me, then back at the empty containers.

“Are you ready to face my father?” He asked, his voice steady.

I looked at him, noting the set of his jaw and the sharpness in his eyes. He was ready to confront him.

"Yes," I said without delay.

He stood and offered his hand, and I took it as we headed to find his father.