Alpha Damon (Sienna) novel Chapter 247

Ethan:

I barely made it down the hall when I heard the door behind me swing open.

Footsteps, quick, light, angry.

“Ethan!”

I stopped, jaw tightening, but I didn’t turn around. I did not want to turn around to face her. I did not even want to look her in the eye.

“Why the hell did you kiss me just to walk away?” Delilah snapped from behind me. “What was that supposed to be, some passing gesture? A test? What the hell was that?”

I slowly turned, meeting her glare. My eyes darkened and I shook my head at her. Even the idea of her asking such a question took me off guard. Even the idea of her thinking that this should mean anything was absurd to me, especially right now, especially at a moment like this.

“You think I didn’t want to stay? Do you really believe that this was easy for me to actually just walk away?” I said quietly. “ You think I didn’t want to…” I stopped myself, breathing hard. “That’s exactly why I walked away. Taking things too far is not. I’m now saying we should not be doing that, not right now.”

She stepped closer, fire in her eyes. “You don’t get to make that decision alone. You do not just kiss me, look me in the eye like that, act all gentle, and suddenly snap at me as if it meant nothing to you.”

“And who does, Delilah? Tell me Delilah, enlighten me on what it is that you have in mind.” I asked, my voice rising. “Who gets to decide how we’re supposed to feel when everything around us is falling apart? Who gets to decide how we are supposed to start reacting when everything around us feels like it is going to hell, where everything seems going wrong? Who gets to decide whether or not we get to be lovers? Who gets to decide what we are going to be able to react to?”

She didn’t respond.

I kept going.

“I just buried one of my closest friends. You’ve been used, hunted, hurt, by everyone you thought you could trust. And you want to what? Pretend like a kiss fixes any of it?” I asked, frowning at her. “It does not. The worst thing about this point is that if it could, it would have fixed a lot of wounds, but it does not.”

Still, she said nothing.

My chest rose and fell with the weight of it all.

I took a step toward her. “Who gets to decide what this is? When we’re both holding too many pieces of our own broken worlds? When we are barely holding it together, who gets to decide how anything goes about us?”

Her eyes flickered, just slightly.

That hesitation. That silence.

It made me turn away, hands running through my hair.

“I can’t do this,” I muttered. “If I walk away now, it’s the right thing. It’s what I should do. It is how I should react. It is how you should allow me to react. It is how I want you to allow me to react. You’re not even supposed to follow me.”

When I pulled her against me, she didn’t resist. When my hands moved to her back, she gripped my shirt like she couldn’t bear the thought of letting go.

I led her to my room in silence. Oops. Never leaving hers momentarily, only escaping them to take a breath, to open the door or to kick it closed.

And for a moment, the two of us just looked at one another when we were in my room.

We didn’t speak.

We didn’t need to.

Her hands found the hem of my shirt. Mine found the delicate curve of her waist. The blanket she still wore slipped from her shoulders like it didn’t belong between us.

When our lips met again, it was slower. Deeper. My hands trembled as they touched her skin, not from fear, but reverence.

She looked up at me, her breath catching. I pressed my forehead against hers.

“This isn’t about fixing anything,” I whispered. “It’s about holding on to something.”