Chapter 37: Unspoken Promises
The air between them was thick with something unspoken, something neither of them had dared to acknowledge before. Laura could still feel the warmth of Ethan's lips on hers, the steady way he had held her—like he wasn't afraid of her. Like he wasn't afraid for her.
For a moment, she thought about pulling away, about breaking the fragile connection before it became something real.
But she didn't.
Ethan's gaze searched hers, unreadable but gentle. Then, without a word, he bent slightly, his arms slipping under her knees and back.
Laura barely had time to react before he lifted her off the ground in a smooth, effortless motion.
A princess carry.
She stiffened instinctively, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. "Ethan—"
"Relax," he murmured, his voice calm. "I got you."
Laura swallowed. It wasn't the carrying that bothered her—it was what it meant. Being vulnerable. Letting herself be cared for.
And yet, she didn't fight it.
Didn't fight him.
Ethan carried her through the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps steady, heartbeat calm, as if holding her like this was the most natural thing in the world. The scent of him—clean, warm, unmistakably him—wrapped around her.
Her fingers twitched against his chest. She could feel his strength, the sheer power in his arms, but there was no forcefulness, no pressure. Just quiet patience.
When they reached his room, he nudged the door open with his foot and stepped inside. The space was simple—clean, uncluttered. The bed sat near the window, bathed in soft moonlight.
Ethan placed her down gently, but even when her back touched the mattress, her fingers didn't leave his shirt.
His eyes met hers, searching. "You okay?"
Laura took a slow breath, willing her heart to steady. "Yeah."
He smirked slightly. "You sure?"
She nodded, but then hesitated. Her lips parted slightly, as if trying to find the right words. Finally, she muttered, "It's my first time."
Ethan's smirk faded. His expression softened, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. He exhaled, then slowly brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.
"We don't have to do this," he said quietly.
Laura bit the inside of her cheek. "I know."
Ethan's fingers traced the side of her face, slow, careful. "I want you to be sure."
Laura swallowed hard. She had spent her entire life keeping people at a distance, always pushing, always ready to run. But right now, she didn't want to run.
She didn't want distance.
She wanted him.
So, instead of answering, she reached up, curling her fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him down into another kiss.
Ethan responded immediately, his lips moving against hers with an aching slowness, like he was savoring every second. His hands traced along her sides, warm and steady.
Laura's breathing hitched as something inside her tightened, her instincts screaming at her—fight, flee, survive—but she ignored them.
Then it happened.
Her claws slid out.
Not by choice. It was instinct, raw and uncontrolled.
She tensed, pulling back slightly, panic flickering across her face. "Ethan, I—"
But Ethan didn't pull away.
Instead, he reached behind himself, feeling the sharp edges as they lightly pressed against his back.
And then, deliberately, he let them cut through his skin.
Laura's eyes widened as the scent of blood filled the air. Her claws retracted immediately, horror flashing in her expression.
"Why did you—"
"Because I trust you," Ethan murmured, his voice steady.
Her breath hitched.
Trust.
No one had ever trusted her like that before.
She stared at him, searching his face, expecting hesitation, fear—something. But there was none.
Instead, Ethan cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "I'm not afraid of you, Laura."
Her chest tightened, something breaking inside her defenses, something she couldn't put into words.
She pressed her forehead against his, breathing him in, letting herself believe it.
And when he kissed her again, she didn't hold back.
She let herself fall.