Sophia knew she should step away. That was the logical thing to do. But logic had no place in the presence of Lucian. The way he looked at her, the way his voice wrapped around her name—it unraveled her completely.
"I don't belong to you," she whispered, though even as she said the words, they felt hollow.
Lucian's lips curved slightly, but there was no amusement in his expression. "Lie to yourself if you must, little fae. But we both know the truth."
His voice was low, like a dark promise.
Sophia clenched her fists at her sides, trying to summon the strength to resist him. "You're arrogant."
He tilted his head slightly, studying her. "And you are stubborn."
Her heart pounded against her ribs. She hated how easily he saw through her, how effortlessly he unraveled the walls she'd spent years building. He made her feel things she wasn't ready to accept—things she didn't understand.
"I don't want this." The words left her lips in a whisper, but even she could hear the uncertainty in them.
Lucian's eyes darkened. "Then why do your hands tremble? Why does your breathing hitch every time I come near you?"
Sophia opened her mouth, but no words came.
Because he was right.
She hated that he was right.
Lucian took a step closer, closing what little distance remained between them. His presence was overwhelming—his scent, his warmth, the sheer force of his being. It was intoxicating.
Sophia took a shaky step back, but Lucian followed. It was a slow, deliberate dance, one where she pretended to run, and he pretended to chase. But they both knew how this would end.
With her in his arms.
With her surrendering.
"Tell me, Sophia," Lucian murmured, his breath ghosting against her cheek. "When I kissed you in your dreams, did you push me away then?"
Her breath caught. The dreams.
He knew about them.
"How—"
"I told you," he murmured, brushing his fingers along her jaw. "I've always been with you."
Sophia felt her resolve slip. This connection between them—it wasn't normal. It wasn't something she could ignore or reason away. It was something ancient, something woven into her very soul.
Lucian's fingers traced down her arm, slow, deliberate. "Say it," he coaxed.
"Say what?" she breathed.
"That you feel it too."
Sophia's lashes fluttered. Her heart was racing. Every instinct screamed at her to fight, to deny him, to resist.
But she couldn't.
Because the truth was undeniable.
She did feel it.
Every time he looked at her. Every time he touched her.
It wasn't just desire.
It was fate.
And in that moment, she knew—Lucian wasn't going to stop until she admitted it.