EZRA
My feet moved before my mind could register what I was doing. One moment, I was standing in the dimly lit hallway, my heart pounding against my ribcage as my eyes locked onto Malachai's. The next, I was walking toward him, drawn in by something I couldn't explain. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was something else…something deeper, more desperate.
Malachai stood stiffly, his arms crossed over his chest, his sharp eyes watching my every movement. He didn't move, didn't shift away like I half-expected him to. He just stood there, waiting, his expression unreadable. The flickering wall sconces cast shadows across his face, making his features seem even more defined, his jaw sharp, his lips full, his dark eyes unrelenting.
I swallowed hard, the sound loud in my own ears. My throat was suddenly dry, my palms sweaty. My body felt hot all over, and I wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or something else entirely. "You…" I started, my voice quieter than I intended. "You haven't been around."
Malachai blinked, his expression still unreadable. "I've been busy." His voice was even, devoid of emotion. But there was something in his eyes….something he wasn't saying.
I clenched my fists at my sides. Why did I even care? He worked for Lucius. He was dangerous. I should have wanted him to stay far away from me. And yet, the past three days without seeing him had felt unbearable. Like a gnawing, empty ache in my chest. And I hated that.
I forced myself to take a breath, steadying my voice. "I just… I thought maybe—"
"Ezra," Malachai interrupted, his tone suddenly softer. "What are you doing?"
I hesitated. What was I doing? I didn't know. All I knew was that I didn't want him to walk away from me. Not now. Not after I'd spent three days wondering if he was even alive.
My body moved before my mind could stop it. My arms lifted, reaching out, fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt. And then, I did the unthinkable. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him in place, my forehead resting lightly against his shoulder.
He tensed beneath me. His muscles were rigid, his entire body locked as if he wasn't sure what to do. I could feel his heartbeat against my own, strong and steady. His warmth seeped into my skin, and I realized just how cold I had been all this time.
For a second….just a second…he let me hold him. Then, slowly, gently, his hands came up, gripping my shoulders. Not to pull me closer. Not to return the embrace. But to push me back.
"Ezra." His voice was softer now, but firm. "I can't."
The words sent a sharp pain through my chest, like a blade sliding between my ribs. I pulled back, just enough to see his face. His eyes were conflicted—something I hadn't expected to see. But even in that conflict, there was finality. A line neither of us could cross.
"I'm sorry," he murmured.
I blinked up at him, my breathing uneven, my lips parted as if I wanted to say something. But I didn't know what. My heart was racing too fast, my thoughts a tangled mess. I had never done something like this before—never felt this kind of heat, this kind of urgency. What the hell had gotten into me?
I took a shaky step back, my arms falling to my sides. I suddenly felt ridiculous, like I had just made the biggest mistake of my life.
"I…" My voice failed me. I shook my head, stepping back again. "Forget it."
Malachai didn't move. He just watched me, his gaze unreadable once more.
I turned before he could see the embarrassment burning across my face and walked away, my heart still thundering in my chest. I had just done something reckless. Something stupid.
And worst of all… I wasn't sure if I regretted it.