Verveville's Curse

Chapter51

Kael’s pov

I found her in the garden.

She sat on the stone bench near the fountain, her back straight but her shoulders tight. The moonlight fell across her hair, turning it silver, making her look softer than she would ever want anyone to believe. Her hands were clasped tight in her lap, as if she was holding herself together.

I stopped when I saw her. My chest pulled tight because I knew I had caused that look on her face. I had made her carry that hurt. I stood still for a moment, unsure if I even deserved to go closer.

But she was mine. And I couldn’t leave her sitting alone with that hurt.

“Lylah,” I said, my voice low, almost careful.

She didn’t turn. She didn’t even shift. Only her shoulders lifted a little, like she had heard me but refused to answer.

I came closer anyway. I stepped around the bench until I stood before her. Her eyes lifted, finally, and when they met mine, they cut. They burned with hurt but also pride. She wanted me to see both.

“You humiliated me,” she said. The words were soft, but they hit hard.

I nodded once. “I know,” I said. I didn’t defend myself. I didn’t try to twist it.

Her eyes narrowed, maybe surprised I didn’t argue.

“I thought it would help you forget your fear,” I said, my voice steady and honest. “I thought if you felt me, you’d remember nothing else in that room. But I was wrong. I didn’t think about what it would do to you.”

Her lips parted, then pressed shut again. She looked away, down at her hands still tight in her lap.

“I couldn’t even speak right,” she whispered. “I sounded like a fool.”

“I know.” I lowered myself, bending one knee so I was level with her. I wanted her to see my eyes, to know I wasn’t above her in this. “And that wasn’t your fault. That was me. I broke your focus. I took your strength from you in that moment.”

She looked at me from the corner of her eye. I saw the fight in her soften, just a little.

“You can’t do that to me in front of everyone,” she said firmly. “Not like that.”

“I won’t,” I said quick and steady. “Not unless you want me to.”

Her mouth twitched, almost a smile, but she fought it back.

I reached for her hand, slow, giving her time to pull away. She didn’t. My fingers closed gently around hers.

“I’m not trying to own you, Lylah,” I said. “But I don’t know how to hold back when it comes to you. You sit beside me and the whole world fades. It’s only you. I thought it was strength. But it wasn’t. It was selfish.”

Her eyes flickered, her lips pressing together like she was holding something back.

“You make me so mad,” she said finally, shaking her head.

“I know.” I couldn’t help the small smile. “And you make me mad too.”

Her eyes shot up, surprised. “How do I make you mad?”

“Because you don’t see yourself the way I do,” I said. “Because you shrink when you should stand tall. Because you’re stronger than you let yourself believe, and it drives me insane to watch you sit and doubt yourself. It makes me want to shake you and kiss you all at once.”

Her cheeks warmed, her lips parting. She looked down fast, trying to hide it, but I caught it.

I lifted my hand to her chin, gentle, tilting her face back to me. “I don’t want us to fight like this,” I said. “Not when there are too many things out there waiting to tear us apart.”

Her eyes shimmered in the moonlight. “You scared me,” she whispered.

My chest tightened. “Scared you how?”

“Scared me of myself,” she said. “Of how much you can take from me without asking. How fast I lose myself in you. It feels like I don’t belong to myself when you touch me.”

Her words hurt. But then she added, softer, “And I hate that I want it anyway.”

I closed my eyes for a breath, her honesty burning through me. When I opened them, my voice was rough. “You do belong to yourself, Lylah. Always. You’re not mine because I claimed you. You’re mine because you chose me. That’s the only truth.”

She blinked, her lips trembling faintly.

“And what if I don’t choose you?” she asked.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “Then I’ll still choose you. Even if it kills me.”

Her eyes widened at that. She stared at me, long and hard, like she was trying to see if I meant it. Then, in the smallest voice, she said, “You’re impossible.”

Her forehead lowered until it rested against mine. My whole body eased like the world had finally let me breathe again.

My hands came up to hold her face gently, cradling her like something precious. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“I know,” she said back.

We stayed there, close, breathing each other in. I wanted to stay like that forever, no words, no courtrooms, no curses, no eyes watching us. Just her and me, close enough to feel the truth.

Finally, she tilted her head, her lips brushing mine. Not rushed. Not angry. Just soft, forgiving.

I kissed her back the same way. Slow. Careful. Letting her lead. Letting her know I wouldn’t take more than she gave.

When we broke apart, her eyes lingered on mine. “Don’t do that again,” she said.

“I won’t,” I promised. “Not unless you ask me to.”

Her lips twitched, the ghost of a smile. “Don’t push your luck.”

I laughed under my breath, brushing my thumb across her cheek. “Fair enough.”

She leaned against me then, her body easing, her head resting against my chest. I wrapped an arm around her, holding her close, and for a long time we didn’t move. We didn’t need to. The fight had burned out of us, leaving only the quiet pull that never went away.

I pressed my cheek against her hair, breathing her in. “You’re mine, Lylah,” I whispered softly, not for power, not for claim, but because it was truth in me I couldn’t deny.

And she didn’t argue. She only held tighter.

For the first time since the meeting, I felt peace.