Episode 15: The Edge of Control
336 Words
The room was charged with an intensity that made it impossible to breathe.
Kieran’s grip on Seraphina’s wrist was firm, unrelenting. His dark eyes burned into hers, demanding something she wasn’t sure she could give.
“Tell me,” he growled. “Did you believe him?”
Seraphina swallowed hard, the weight of Dante’s revelation still pressing against her ribs.
“He had proof, Kieran,” she whispered.
His jaw clenched, his grip tightening. A warning. A promise.
“There’s always proof,” he muttered darkly. “That doesn’t make it the truth.”
Seraphina exhaled sharply. “Then tell me what is.”
Kieran didn’t answer.
Instead, he pushed her against the wall, his body pressing into hers, his scent—smoke and whiskey—flooding her senses.
“You keep walking into the fire, Sinclair,” he murmured, his lips just inches from hers. “You should know by now… I don’t play fair.”
Her heart pounded. “Then why don’t you stop me?”
A wicked smirk tugged at his lips. “Because I like watching you burn.”
And then—he kissed her.
Not soft. Not gentle.
It was a claim. A punishment. A warning.
His fingers slid into her hair, tilting her head back as his tongue demanded entrance, taking everything.
Seraphina gasped against his mouth, her body betraying her even as her mind screamed to resist.
Damn him.
Damn how much she wanted this.
She pushed against his chest, but Kieran didn’t budge. Instead, he pinned her wrists above her head, deepening the kiss until she was dizzy from the sheer force of it.
When he finally pulled away, his breath was ragged, uneven.
His thumb brushed over her swollen lips, his gaze dangerous, unreadable.
“You’re mine,” he murmured. “No matter how hard you fight it.”
Seraphina’s pulse thundered.
She should run. She should leave.
But she didn’t.
Because the real danger wasn’t Kieran.
It was the fact that she didn’t want to escape.
- Writer
