CRIMSON MOON

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER 22: WHAT WE CAN’T ADMIT

(Damian’s POV)

I shouldn’t have kissed her.

The taste of her was still on my lips, her scent in my lungs, and it was killing me.

I had barely held myself back. The moment her fingers tangled in my hair, the moment she pulled me closer instead of running—I almost lost it.

The beast inside me had roared in triumph.

But I knew better.

I wasn’t safe.

Not for her. Not for anyone.

I stood at the edge of the clearing, forcing my breathing to steady, my claws curling into my palms. I had to get control of myself before I did something worse.

"Damian."

Her voice was behind me, quiet, cautious.

I clenched my jaw, not turning around. "Go inside, Selene."

She didn’t listen.

Of course, she didn’t.

Instead, I felt her close the distance between us, the warmth of her body lingering just out of reach. "What just happened—"

"It won’t happen again." The words tasted like a lie.

She scoffed. "You think you can just decide that?"

"Yes."

Her footsteps moved closer, slow and deliberate. "You think this is just about you?"

"Selene—"

"Don’t do that." Her voice sharpened. "Don’t act like you’re protecting me when we both know the truth."

I exhaled, my hands tightening into fists. "And what truth is that?"

She stepped in front of me now, forcing me to meet her gaze. Fierce. Unyielding. Beautiful.

"That you want me just as much as I want you."

My chest tightened.

But I shook my head, forcing myself to look away. "It doesn’t matter."

"It matters to me."

"Selene."

She reached for me, her fingers brushing against my arm. A spark. A pull.

And gods, it took everything in me not to turn into that touch.

Instead, I stepped back.

Because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t stop.

Not this time.

Her face hardened at my retreat. "You’re not running from the curse," she said, voice quieter now. "You’re running from me."

I didn’t answer.

Because she was right.

And I hated that she could see through me so easily.

She let out a slow breath. "Fine."

I blinked, surprised. "Fine?"

She crossed her arms, her stance unwavering. "If you won’t admit what’s happening between us, then I’ll stop asking."

A flicker of something sharp and cold ran through me.

It was what I wanted, wasn’t it?

For her to stop pushing. Let me handle this on my own.

So why did it feel like a loss?

She turned toward the cabin. "Get some rest, Damian."

And then—she left.

For the first time in years, I felt like I had truly lost a battle.

But this time, I wasn’t sure if I had lost it to her—

Or to myself.