Rosalie's POV
She hadn't meant to stay out this long.
The wind rushed past her face as she moved through the trees, faster than human eyes could follow, faster than her thoughts could settle.
Rosalie Hale didn't get confused.
She got angry. She got icy. She got sharp.
But confusion?
That wasn't her brand.
And yet, her boots slammed into the floor of her room upstairs with a force that cracked a floorboard beneath the rug. Her fists clenched at her sides, and she stared at the reflection in her mirror, golden eyes burning with frustration.
Kane Hanma.
That man.
Arrogant. Calm. Maddening.
And worse he got to her. He peeled back layers with his silence. With his presence. With the way he didn't chase her, didn't try to please her, didn't do anything that made sense.
She'd yelled. He hadn't flinched.
She threatened. He smirked.
And the worst part? Her pulse if it beat would've been pounding in her ears the entire time.
"I should've slapped him," she muttered under her breath.
But what would that prove?
He wouldn't hit back. He wouldn't walk away either.
He'd enjoy it.
A knock on the door cut through her spiraling thoughts.
"Rosalie?" came Carla's voice, soft but firm.
"Come in."
Carla stepped inside, the only person Rosalie couldn't cold-shoulder for long. Graceful, composed, the perfect image of a family matriarch. She closed the door behind her and folded her hands in front of her.
"I take it your visit didn't go… smoothly."
Rosalie rolled her eyes and sat on the edge of her bed. "It wasn't a visit. It was damage control. I went to tell him to stop disrupting things."
"And?"
"He smiled. That smug, infuriating ugh."
Carla's lips tugged in a faint, knowing smile. "He got under your skin."
Rosalie narrowed her eyes. "No, he didn't."
"Rosalie."
"Fine." She stood, pacing. "He's unpredictable. He doesn't act like anyone I've ever met. He doesn't try to please anyone. Doesn't try to prove anything. And somehow… that makes people want to prove themselves to him."
"He's powerful," Carla said simply.
"He's reckless. And dangerous. And probably going to ruin everything."
Carla waited a moment before saying, "He's coming to dinner."
Rosalie stopped in her tracks.
"What?"
Carla remained calm. "I invited him."
"You what?" Rosalie's voice raised an octave, fists clenching again. "Why would you—"
"Because we need to see him. All of us. On equal ground."
"He's not equal."
"No," Carla said calmly. "He's not. He's something else entirely. And pretending he isn't here or isn't affecting you, or Edith, or Alice… that's what would be reckless."
Rosalie sat back down slowly, her anger simmering just below the surface. "You're playing with fire."
Carla's smile was thin, but firm. "Sometimes fire clears out the rot."
Rosalie stared down at her hands.
Kane's voice echoed in her head.
"You could try."
That cocky grin. That unwavering stare. That heat she tried to ignore but couldn't.
"What if he breaks us?" Rosalie whispered.
Carla walked over and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Then we rebuild stronger."
Rosalie didn't answer.
She didn't know how to.