Blaze POV
After that damn mutt finally stormed out like the hot-headed beast he is, silence fell heavy in the room. I should have left too.
No—I wanted to leave.
Hell, I regretted coming in the first place. Regretted the second I launched myself at her window like a lovesick idiot with no self-preservation left. Regretted every goddamn emotion clawing at my chest since the moment I saw her curled up, blood in the air, pain on her face, and something inside me crack like old stone under pressure.
I turned toward the window again. The open night air called me. Freedom. Cold distance. Control.
But they wouldn't shut up—those voices. The cursed ones.
"Do what she needs."
"Fix it for her."
"Protect what's yours."
Mine. I snarled at the thought. She wasn't mine. I didn't want her to be. A human. A fucking fragile girl with fire in her eyes and fury in her blood. She couldn't possibly be my beloved. The universe must be drunk off its own cosmic power.
