Chapter 296: Karma
I flinched when he pulled the bottle from my hand. My eyes snapped to his, and the worry there... God, it was too much.
Too kind. Too hurt. Too aware.
"Why are you here again? I told you..." I rasped, my voice cracking. "I told you I’m a mess."
His jaw tightened like he wanted to fix it. Fix me.
But no one could.
"You’re drunk," he said, setting the bottle aside.
I let out a laugh that was more of a sob. "That obvious, huh?"
He didn’t answer.
Didn’t need to.
I knew I looked like hell. Felt like hell.
And my heart ...
My heart felt like it had been crushed under Kael’s hands, even though they weren’t touching me.
"Did you go see him?" Sylas asked quietly. "Ash told me."
I nodded... then shook my head. Wrapped my arms around myself like maybe I could hold myself together that way.
"I saw him," I whispered, "but he didn’t see me."
Sylas stayed silent, and it hurt worse than any words.
"I thought I could do it," I went on, voice breaking. "Tell him. Everything. But he was with someone else. And then she kissed him. Right there. In front of me." My throat burned. "And he didn’t even... pull away. He looked so... so warm with her. Like he didn’t even remember me."
"Aria..."
"I saw it, Sylas." My voice cracked. "The way he held her face. Like she was all he ever wanted. He used to look at me like that."
My knees buckled before I realized, and Sylas caught me. Like he always did.
As I buried my face into his chest, trying not to cry again, I realized it wasn’t just jealousy eating me alive.
It was grief.
Grief for something I’d thrown away and was now watching die in someone else’s hands.
The kiss replayed again in my head. The way he leaned into her. The way she looked at him like she mattered. The way he let her.
I dragged a bitter laugh from somewhere deep in my chest.
"This is probably karma," I muttered. "For hurting you."
He turned his head toward me.
"For making you cry," I went on. "For breaking your heart. For treating you like a maybe, when you were always a no. You can laugh at me. Say ’I told you so.’ I deserve it."
But Sylas didn’t laugh.
He stepped closer instead.
His hand came to my jaw, firm but trembling, like he was afraid I’d vanish if he didn’t hold me right there. His eyes searched mine, and there was nothing gentle in them now ... just this sharp, hungry ache I’d been pretending not to see for weeks.
"No," he said, his voice low, rough, almost breaking. "I’d rather do this."
And then his mouth crashed into mine.
It wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t patient.
It was months of restraint shattering all at once.
He kissed me like he’d been starving for it, like he’d been standing at the edge of this moment forever and now he was finally falling in. His grip on my jaw tightened, angling me to him, taking me deeper, harder, like he needed me to feel every ounce of want he’d kept hidden.
His lips moved against mine with heat and urgency, a fevered kind of desperation, like if he kissed me hard enough, long enough, I’d see him ... really see him ... instead of the man I’d turned away.
And I... I didn’t pull away.
I let it happen.
Let his pain press against mine, let his need burn into me, let that collision of heartbreak and hunger swallow us both.
My hands fisted in his shirt, nails catching on the fabric, breath stolen, head spinning, heart already clouded with too many things I didn’t want to feel.
And for a heartbeat ... just one ... I kissed him back.
His hand didn’t just hold my jaw...
It claimed it.
And then his mouth was on mine, hot, urgent, hungry in a way that startled me so much my breath caught in his kiss.
This wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t tentative.
This was weeks... maybe months... of holding back crashing all at once.
A dam finally breaking.
A man kissing me like he’d been waiting for permission his whole life and I’d just, finally, given it.
My back hit the railing, his body closing in, caging me there. His fingers threaded into my hair like he was afraid I’d vanish if he let go, and God, the sound he made... low, desperate... shot straight through me.
And I let him.
I let him because it was easier than thinking. Easier than replaying that kiss I’d just seen... Kael’s kiss, except it wasn’t mine anymore.
The ache in my chest worsened.
It burned, it throbbed, it begged me to stop.
But I kissed Sylas back anyway.
Because maybe if I pressed hard enough, if I let him pour himself into me the way he wanted, it would fill the hollow Kael had left.
Because maybe letting Sylas kiss me like I was the only thing he’d ever wanted could make me forget that I wasn’t the only thing Kael wanted anymore.
And maybe...
Maybe it was okay to fall into Sylas tonight.
Right?
Sylas’ mouth devoured mine like he was trying to burn out every trace of Kael I still carried.
Like if he kissed me hard enough, deep enough, long enough, he could rewrite my history.
His hunger was overwhelming... hot, unrelenting, consuming... and it was in my lungs, my veins, my pulse. My breath stuttered against his lips, but he didn’t slow down. Every tilt of his head, every desperate drag of his mouth over mine felt like a claim he’d been holding back for far too long.
When he finally tore away, just enough to look at me, I was dizzy... dazed. My lips tingled, my chest ached, and the edges of the world blurred until there was only him.
"I... " My voice caught, and I didn’t even know what I was trying to say. "Sylas... we should... "
He leaned back in, close enough that I felt the words against my mouth before he spoke them.
"If you want me to stop," his voice was low, rough, "push me. Slap me. Do anything."
But I didn’t.
God help me, I didn’t.
Instead, I let his hands find me... sliding over my hips, gripping like he was afraid I’d vanish... before they moved lower, then up again, urging my legs around his waist. His body pressed tighter to mine, heat and tension coiling between us, and the kiss grew messier, rougher, needier.
I grabbed his jaw, fingers digging in... not to stop him, but to pull him closer. The kiss broke for just a second, both of us breathing hard, and I hated how part of me wished it could be enough to drown out the ache Kael left behind.
Because maybe... maybe letting myself fall into this was easier than facing the fact that nothing... not even Sylas’ hunger... would bring him back.
Somewhere between the press of his mouth and the heat of his hands, reality hit me like a brick to the chest.
I wasn’t kissing Sylas because I wanted him.
I was kissing him because I wanted to forget Kael.