Chapter 18 18
Kimberly’s POV
I scoffed, picked up my bag and went home. I didn’t look at it properly until I got home.
I did not know how long the mark had been there. Or if it was there the entire day, sitting under my skin like a quiet reminder about the intimate night we shared. I didn't want to go home,I wanted to question him, but I knew the mark wasn't ordinary. I needed space from the crowded hallways, and the constant noise. Most especially him sitting a few feet away pretending everything was fine.
I pushed my door shut and locked it without thinking, dropping my bag on the floor as I moved straight to the mirror. The mark was still there. Faint, but clear enough now that I wasn’t second-guessing it.
I turned my wrist slowly under the light, studying the shape. It wasn’t random. It curved slightly, like it had been placed with intention, not something that happened by accident. My thumb brushed over it, and a strange warmth spread from the point of contact, subtle but real.
I pressed a little harder. The warmth deepened, not painful, just… reactive. Like it recognized the touch.
A quiet breath left me before I could stop it. “What is this?”
I pulled my hand back, watching the mark carefully, expecting it to fade or shift or do something that would make sense of it.
I turned away from the mirror, pacing once across the room, then again, my thoughts moving faster than my steps. There was no point standing here staring at it. That wouldn’t change anything.
I tied my hair in a pony tail and If he wanted to pretend nothing had changed, that was his problem. I wasn’t playing along this time.
“You’re avoiding me,” he said.
“I’m busy,” I replied without slowing. He didn’t respond to that, but I caught the slight shift in his expression out of the corner of my eye. We walked in silence for a few seconds before he spoke again.
“You should’ve come to me.”
I stopped. And turned.
“And said what?” I asked. “You weren’t exactly open to conversation yesterday.”
His gaze dropped briefly to my wrist again, he knew exactly what he was doing.
“You’ve been looking at it all day,” I said.
“I noticed it.”
“You noticed it before I did. You already knew it was there before today.” A pause.
That was enough confirmation. I let out a short breath. “It matters,” he said.
“Good. Then we’re getting somewhere.”
I held his gaze, his hand moved slow, until his fingers hovered near my wrist. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then closed the distance, his touch light but steady as it brushed over the mark.
The reaction was immediate. That same warmth spread again, stronger this time, sharper, pulling my attention straight to the point of contact. My breath hitched slightly before I could stop it.
He felt it too. I could see it in the way his expression shifted, breaking for just a second before snapping back into place.
“What is that?” I asked quietly. He didn’t answer right away.
His fingers pulled back slowly, like it took effort.
“It shouldn’t have happened,” he said.
I crossed my arms, ignoring the lingering warmth on my skin. “Then try a better version of it.”
“This is a connection, we are now connected because I marked you,”
I didn’t respond immediately, letting that sit for a second before I spoke again. “That sounds like something you should’ve mentioned earlier. I don't think I believe in comic books,” He laughed at my words.
Instead, his focus shifted again, scanning the space around us before settling back on me, more alert now, more aware of everything.
“You can’t stay away from me,” he said.
I blinked. “Boy we are just fake dating, it is not like you have any right to be possessive.”
“It is actually going to be necessary now, because it will keep you alive and help you stop getting nightmares or cause you to have withdrawals.”
“I am so confused, I didn't say anything about nightmares, which means you know what has been happening. Are you trying to pull my legs because I keep asking you questions and expecting answers?”
“Kimberly,if you want to know the whole truth and fast, I am telling you right now ,” I held his gaze, searching for any sign that he was exaggerating, that this was just another way of avoiding a real explanation.
“You’re serious,” I said.
“Yes.”
He wasn’t going to explain everything. But he wasn’t lying about this.
I exhaled slowly, letting the tension settle into something more manageable. “Then you don’t get to control how I react to hearing such news."
“I’m not trying to control you, I just wanted you to know what happens when you're marked.”
His expression shifted slightly, like he was about to argue, then thought better of it.
Good.
I stepped closer, closing the small space between us, not intimidated, not backing down. “If this is connected to you, then I deal with it my way.”
“And what way is that?”
“I figured it out.”
His gaze held mine, searching, measuring. “That’s not going to work,” he said quietly.
“Watch me.”
For a second, something almost like frustration flickered through his expression, quickly buried under that usual calm.
“You don’t understand what you’re dealing with,” he said. I let out a small breath through my nose.
“Then I’ll find someone who can. Someone who already doesn't have a problem getting close to me.”
His posture shifted slightly, his focus sharpening again. “Who?”
He already knew who I wanted to meet, his literal arch nemesis, London.
The realization settled between us without being said.
He stiffened.“Stay away from him, you saw what he did the last time,” he said.
I tilted my head slightly, watching him carefully. “He already apologized and he was never going to actually do it, he just wanted to get to you, and why do you always show up when I'm in danger?”
“I guess you have just been lucky.”