Moving her hair from her face, I brushed my thumb under her jaw, letting myself memorize every new line of her transformed beauty. I felt Crash pacing inside me, restless, impatient, but not interfering as long as I kept my promise.
Just desserts, I whispered to him internally, and he growled a pleased approval.
I stepped back just enough to reach behind me to the counter, picking up what I’d prepared earlier—
a small porcelain dish holding a swirl of thick caramel and a few pieces of soft, sugared fruit.
Mishka’s breath hitched when she saw it.
Her eyes lifted to mine, wide, nervous… but curious.
Inviting.
“You said you wanted honesty…” I murmured, stepping close enough that her knees brushed the edge of the counter. “So here’s mine.”
I touched the tip of my finger to the caramel
