Chapter 17 - Quinn

Chapter 17 - Quinn
It starts as instinct. A reflex. A pull from the bond, from the hollow ache between us that’s only grown more unbearable every time he touched me and didn’t go this far. But then my fingers curl into the sheets, and my lips part, and I realize I’m giving into it—not because of the bond.

Because of him.

Because there’s something about Kieran like this that makes the fire inside me flicker instead of burn. It makes me want to lean into the heat instead of away from it.

His other hand comes up, sliding around the back of my neck, steadying me as he deepens the kiss—still slow, still aching. His tongue barely traces mine, and it sends a shudder down my spine that I can’t suppress. I gasp into him, and he groans.

He kisses me like I’m oxygen. Like I’m a prayer he never believed he’d get to say out loud.

When he finally pulls back, it’s only far enough to rest his forehead against mine. His breath is unsteady. His fingers are still cradling my face like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go.

“I didn’t expect you to kiss me,” I whisper.

He closes his eyes for a beat. “I didn’t plan to.”

“Then why did you?”

He pulls back just far enough to meet my gaze, and his voice, when it comes, is a rasp scraped raw from somewhere deep. “Because I needed to feel something that wasn’t rage.”

That lands harder than it should. Because I know exactly what that’s like—reaching for touch to drown out the fire under your skin. I’ve lived in my own head long enough to understand that kind of hunger. But hearing it from him, seeing it on his face, in the tremble of his breath, it knocks the wind out of me.

“You hate me,” I say quietly.

“No,” he says, with a finality that leaves no room for argument. “I hate that I want you this much and still can’t make you stay.”

My heart does something awful in my chest. He moves back, letting the space between us stretch again, but his hand doesn’t leave my face. His thumb brushes the corner of my mouth again, eyes locked on mine.

“I dressed you,” he murmurs, like a confession. “I cleaned your skin. Wrapped you in my scent so you wouldn’t forget who you belonged to, even if the bond faded.”

“I didn’t forget,” I whisper.

“You tried to run.”

“I had to.”

His jaw tightens again. “And now?”

I don’t answer. Because I don’t know. Because everything inside me feels like a shattered compass, spinning too fast to point true. My body still trembles from the kiss. From the bond. From the ache of everything I’ve refused to feel since waking up in this world.

“I’m still chained,” I say finally.

He nods once. “For now.”

I look at him, really look at him, and for the first time I see something human in those eyes. Something not born from my pen or stitched from the myths I wrote into his blood. He looks at me like I’m not a trespasser. Like I’m the missing piece of something ancient and furious that’s been howling inside him for years.

And it terrifies me.

“You don’t even know what I am,” I breathe.

He smiles and it’s soft and lethal. “You’re mine. That’s all I need to know.”

I should fight that. I should spit in his face and scream that I’ll never belong to anyone. But my throat burns, and my eyes sting, and my heart is pounding in time with the bond that hasn’t stopped thrumming since his mouth met mine.

“You think I don’t know fear?” he murmurs, his hand still cradling my cheek like it’s something precious, like I’m made of something that could shatter. “You think I don’t feel it too?”

His thumb traces the seam of my lips, dragging gently down the center of my chin. His voice isn’t cruel now. It’s something quieter. Something raw.

“I felt it the second I realized you were gone.”

My breath catches. “Gone?”

Kieran nods, just once. His mouth is tense. “When you started the vow, I felt the bond recoil. Like something inside me was being ripped loose. It was pain, but a thousand times worse. It was emptiness. Like I’d already buried you.”

He’s not lying.

I see it now. In the tension carved into his shoulders. In the wild thing behind his eyes he hasn’t let out since he stormed into that cell and murdered a man just for touching me. I see it in the way his hand shakes when he brushes my hair back from my forehead, like the image of me pale and limp on some cold stone floor still lingers behind his eyelids.

“I told myself it was just a trick of the bond,” he continues, quieter. “That it would pass. That you’d fight your way back.” His thumb stills against my skin. “But when you didn’t… I broke. I tore through half the castle trying to wake you. Threatened the healer. Everyone. I would’ve razed this world down to the ash if you hadn’t woken.”

A lump lodges in my throat. My fingers curl around the chain, needing something solid to hold onto.

He leans in closer, his breath brushing my cheek. “If you ever try to end the bond again, Quinn, I will chain you to my fucking heartbeat if I have to. I will not survive losing you. Do you understand me?”

The words should terrify me. They should ignite every red flag, every emergency exit I’ve tried to build into the fragile scaffolding of my independence. But the way he says it—so quietly, so damn broken—it feels less like a threat and more like a vow. And something in me answers it.

“I’ll take the chains off tomorrow,” he says quietly.

I close my eyes. “Why not now?”

“Because I want you to believe me when I say you’re safe.” His thumb brushes over my cheekbone again. “And if I let you go now, you’ll run. You’ll tell yourself this was another trick.”

I swallow hard. “And it’s not?”

His mouth brushes mine again. “No. This is the moment I stop fighting the bond like it’s a curse.”

I open my eyes.

He’s staring at me like I’m the only thing anchoring him to this world.

“I’m not going to be what you want me to be,” I whisper. “I’m not going to kneel. Or call you Alpha. Or pretend I’m something soft that needs protecting.”

His smile is small. “Good. I want the woman who seduced a guard just to make me lose control.”

I smirk. “You did.”

His grin widens. “They’ll be cleaning his blood out of the stone for days.”

“I hope it stains.”

Kieran’s laugh is quiet and real. For a moment, we’re just people. Not Alpha. Not Omega. Just a girl in someone else’s shirt and a man trying not to fall apart.

“Rest. I’ll be here when you wake.”

“I know,” I whisper. “That’s what scares me.”