[Kane's POV]
The door clicked shut behind her.
Kane stood still, the silence pressing in like heat after a storm. Rosalie's scent still lingered faint, cold, wrapped in roses and lightning.
He didn't move.
Not yet.
Instead, he stared at the door for a moment longer, jaw tight, pulse steady. Controlled.
She hadn't wanted to leave.
But she had.
And Kane knew exactly why.
Because whatever this was between them it didn't make sense to her. Didn't fit inside her rules, her caution, her control. And people like Rosalie didn't like losing control.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaled through his nose, and walked to the window.
Outside, the trees swayed. The sun had all but vanished.
He smirked to himself.
She'd be back.
[Rosalie's POV]
The trees blurred past as Rosalie moved fast faster than she needed to.
She didn't want to be near him right now. Not because she was afraid of him.
Because she was afraid of herself.
The second she was in range of the Cullen house, she slowed down. Fixed her expression. Smoothed her hair. Slipped the mask back on like a second skin.
She stepped into the house and immediately felt the weight of eyes.
Esme glanced up from the kitchen. Carla and Jasmine stood in the hallway. Alice was by the staircase, frozen mid-step. Edith looked up from the piano, a single key still ringing faintly beneath her fingers.
Nobody spoke.
For once, they didn't need to.
Because they had all heard her coming.
Because they knew.
Alice moved first. "You went to him."
Rosalie didn't answer. She walked past them all and poured herself a glass of water not that she needed it, but her hands needed something to do.
"Rosalie," Edith said quietly, standing now. "What happened?"
Rosalie's hand tightened around the glass. "Nothing happened."
"You smell like him," Jasmine murmured from the hallway, voice low but unmissable.
Rosalie turned sharply. "I didn't ask for commentary."
Esme stepped forward, calm and gentle as always, but there was a hint of concern in her golden eyes. "You're not usually this… rattled."
"I'm not rattled," Rosalie snapped, then immediately hated how loud her voice sounded.
There was a pause.
Alice crossed the room slowly. Her eyes weren't accusing. Just curious. Thoughtful. "You didn't want to leave, did you?"
Rosalie looked away.
"You're drawn to him," Carla said, arms crossed. Not judgmental. Just stating the truth aloud.
Rosalie didn't respond.
Edith stepped closer. "It's the same for all of us. You know that, don't you?"
"I didn't choose this," Rosalie whispered. "I didn't ask to feel like this."
"You think he did?" Alice said softly. "You think Kane wanted to feel it either?"
Rosalie glanced at her, surprised by the gentleness in Alice's tone.
Then Edith added, "None of us understand him. Not fully. But something about him… pulls us. All of us. And maybe that's not something we're supposed to fight."
Rosalie sat down at the edge of the couch, her fingers still tight around the glass.
She felt exposed. Like the version of her that had stood in Kane's kitchen the one who hadn't walked away right away, who had almost leaned in when he got too close was still clinging to her skin.
"He didn't ask anything of me," Rosalie said quietly.
"That's what makes him dangerous," Edith murmured. "He doesn't have to."