37 Tell Me
**Annabel's**
"So, if I make love to you right now," Darius said, his voice dropping to a whisper, each word laced with a dangerous, smoldering intensity, "if I take what is mine, you would let me? Because you believe you’re my property?"
The air around us seemed to grow heavier, charged with something I couldn’t name. My breath caught, and before I realized it, my legs pressed together instinctively, as though that small gesture could shield me from the overwhelming effect he had on me.
"Property, Ann?" he continued, his tone sharpening with each word. "You’re my mate. Or don’t you see that part either?" His eyes narrowed, searching mine for an answer I didn’t have the courage to give. "Are you rejecting me?"
I shook my head, the movement quick and desperate, as though denying it would make everything simpler. But it didn’t. It only seemed to stoke the fire burning in his gaze.
"Then why," he said, his voice a strained growl now, "why do I feel like this is all one-sided? Like I’m forcing myself on you? You’ve begged me to reject you—twice. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Am I nothing compared to him?" His voice cracked, just slightly, before he pressed on. "Has Maxwell taken everything from you? Left nothing but crumbs for me to gather?"
His words cut deep, the raw vulnerability behind them like a blade against my chest. Tears began to well, spilling over before I could stop them.
They streaked down my face, silent witnesses to the storm inside me. I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if I should tell him about the chaos of emotions that churned within me—grief, guilt, longing, and fear, all tangled together.
"Speak to me, Ann," he demanded, his voice rising, his patience splintering. "I command you to speak to me!"
His eyes blazed golden in that moment, the wolf within him breaking through. It was a sight both terrifying and mesmerizing—an embodiment of fury, jealousy, and something deeper, something dangerous. His wolf was restless, prowling, its emotions sharp and unyielding.
My breath hitched, my heart pounding as I stared at him. The weight of his command, of his emotions, was crushing.
"I am afraid," I began, my voice trembling under the weight of my confession. "I dare not reach for this height. I do not deceive myself, Your Majesty. You are the sky, and I am the earth—we can never meet. You are oil, floating effortlessly above, and I am water, sinking to the bottom. We don’t mix. We can’t."
Tears spilled freely now, each word cracking the dam I’d built around my heart. "I’m just taking the moments as they come," I continued, my voice breaking. "But I know, eventually, you’ll settle down with someone else. Someone untouched, unbranded—someone who isn’t me. And I’ve come to terms with that. So yes, I’m scared, but not because of Maxwell. This has nothing to do with him. It’s about what is possible and what is not."
I looked up at him then, my tears glistening in the soft light. "This… us… it’s not possible. And I’ve accepted that."
It was the most I’d ever said to him, the rawest truth I’d dared to share since this strange, tangled connection between us began. My chest heaved with the weight of it, every word leaving me more exposed, more vulnerable. I didn’t know if he would hear me—if he would understand.
But then, without warning, Darius closed the distance between us, crashing his lips onto mine. The kiss was fierce, demanding, like he was trying to pull the very truth from my soul. It wasn’t gentle—it was passion and pain, fire and desperation all at once. His intentions were palpable, scorching through me like an unspoken vow.
For a moment, I froze, caught off guard by the intensity of it all. But then, slowly, I let myself melt into him, into the heat of his touch and the raw emotion that poured from him. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer, and I felt the solidity of him, his strength and vulnerability interwoven like threads of the same fabric.
His hands moved with purpose, finding the ties of my dress, undoing them one by one. My breath hitched as the fabric began to slip away, but I didn’t stop him. I didn’t want to stop him. Not this time. There was no space for hesitation, no room for fear.
Darius had made a promise that morning, and I could feel it in every touch, every kiss. He wasn’t going to hold back now—and I didn’t want him to. Not anymore.