Connections

Stefan

I lose myself in the kiss, and while I want to damn Ghost to hell for this, I can’t because it’s her. Something inside of me is screaming that it was Harlyn that night.

Her mouth feels exactly the same, she tastes the same, and I swear the small moan that escaped her mouth instantly sounded like that night.

My body is pushed back slightly, and her eyes are on fire with rage. Her hand swings, and for some reason, I don’t try to move out of the way.

As the sting of her punch flows through my jaw, I stand there, stunned, caught in the emotions that sweep over me like a storm.

Harlyn—no, it couldn’t be her. But the familiarity of her touch and the taste of her lips ignite a primal instinct within me that defies all logic and reason.

Her eyes blaze with fiery rage, yet beneath the anger, I glimpse a flicker of fear—a fear of the repercussions of hitting the king. At that moment, I couldn’t blame her for hitting me. I had overstepped my bounds and crossed a line that should never hav