27 - Kiss Me

**Drakar**

The curse was growing stronger, more erratic.  

I could feel it clawing at me, an ever-present shadow that tightened its grip the closer I got to her. The transformation always loomed, just beneath the surface, ready to tear through me like a storm. But this wasn’t just the curse—it was her.  

Lysandra. Fuck. 

Her name was a whisper in my mind, a fire in my chest that I couldn’t extinguish no matter how hard I tried. And it pissed me off.  

It pissed me off that she was the one person I couldn’t push away, no matter how much I wanted to. It pissed me off that I couldn’t hate her, even when she looked at Ravok with something that wasn’t disgust. And most of all, it pissed me off that I was starting to hate Ravok less than I hated myself.  

The bastard had the audacity to make her laugh, to teach her things I couldn’t. He was tolerable, and that made me intolerable. I knew I was the one who asked him to train her, but what if everything wasn’t a coincidence?

I was pacing in the hall, my fists clenched at my sides, when Ravok appeared. His face was unreadable, but there was a tension in his shoulders that immediately put me on edge.  

“She fainted,” he said, his tone clipped. “During training.”  

My heart stopped for a moment, then slammed back into motion, faster and heavier than before.  

“What happened?” I demanded, my voice rougher than I intended.  

“She overexerted herself,” Ravok said, brushing past me. “It happens. But she needs rest.”  

I didn’t wait for more details. I was already moving, my legs carrying me toward her room before my mind could catch up.  

The healers were there when I arrived, their hands glowing faintly as they worked over her still form. She looked pale, fragile in a way that twisted something deep inside me.  

“Leave,” I ordered, my voice a low growl.  

One of the healers looked up, startled. “But, my lord—”  

“I said leave.”  

They didn’t argue after that. 

Once they were gone, the room fell silent except for the sound of her breathing. I sat by her bedside, my hand hovering over hers before I finally let it rest there. The warmth of her skin against mine was grounding, even as the curse raged beneath my own.  

I stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, watching her chest rise and fall, willing her to wake up.  

And then after what felt like a month– but was only just a few hours, she did.  

Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, before they settled on me. She looked confused, like she wasn’t sure where she was or why I was there. The second part made my heart squeeze.

"Drakar?” she murmured, her voice soft and hoarse, as if speaking was a struggle.

“I’m here,” I replied, my voice quieter than I intended, with a raw edge I couldn’t hide.

She tried to sit up, but the moment she moved, she flinched, pulling her hand away from mine like it had been burned.

“Static,” she muttered, rubbing her palm against her robe, her expression distant.

I frowned, concerned, but before I could say anything, she tried to stand again.

“Don’t,” I said quickly, placing a firm hand on her shoulder to stop her. “You need to rest.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, though her voice lacked its usual strength.

I didn’t listen. Instead, I reached for the tray of food the healers had left behind. The idea of feeding her seemed ridiculous, but the thought of her collapsing again was far worse.

“Lay back, and eat,” I said, holding a spoonful of soup toward her, trying to sound casual despite the knot forming in my chest.

She blinked at me, her eyes wide, a mix of confusion and amusement crossing her face. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light, though there was a sharpness to it.

She hesitated for a moment, then leaned forward and took a sip. The action was simple, even mundane, but the way her lips wrapped around the spoon was enough to turn me on.

Her gaze remained fixed on me, unwavering, and I couldn’t look away. I held the spoon in my hand, frozen, feeling it tremble slightly.

Then I heard it… again.

*"I’d like to kiss him."*

Her voice echoed in my mind, soft and unguarded, like a quiet whisper carried on the breeze. My body tensed instantly, every muscle tightening with shock.

What the hell?

My jaw clenched as I thought back to the time we had dinner together. I could also hear her thoughts then, but not after that, until now. What was causing this effect?

Heat rushed through me, and I cursed under my breath. This was the worst possible moment for… this.

If I gave in, I’d rip her apart. My hand trembled at the thought.

I tried to focus on the soup, on anything else, but her words kept echoing in my mind. She had thought it. She had said it, even if only to herself.

And it made me feel mind-blowingly amazing.

Before I could gather my thoughts, she reached out, her fingers brushing against mine as she took the bowl from my hand.

“Thanks,” she said, setting it gently on the table beside her.

I barely registered the movement, my mind too overwhelmed with the chaos swirling within me.

Then she looked at me, her expression unreadable, but there was something more in her gaze. Something that made my heart race.

“Kiss me.”

The words were soft, hesitant, almost as if she was surprised by them herself.

I thought I’d misheard her, or maybe it was just another stray thought slipping into my head. But the way she was looking at me, the way her lips parted slightly, her breath catching—there was no mistaking it.

I stared at her, my heart pounding in my chest, torn between the pull of the curse and something far more dangerous—something I wasn’t sure I could control.

“Say it again,” I whispered, my voice low and rough, the tension thick in the air between us.

She hesitated, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red, but her gaze never wavered from mine.

“Kiss me,” she repeated, her voice firmer this time, the words carrying more weight.

And then, before I could think, before I could stop myself, I leaned in. My body moved of its own accord, driven by the overwhelming need to close the distance between us. The air between us seemed to crackle with energy, charged with something neither of us had been ready to acknowledge.

Her breath hitched as I hovered just inches from her, from her lips…. heavens!

And for a brief moment, I considered pulling back—thinking of the consequences of what I was about to do. If I kissed her, would I be able stop myself from going further?

But the temptation, the hunger in her eyes, and the powerful pull I felt toward her left no room for hesitation.

I held her chin, leaning forward.