Fangs, Fate & Other Bad Decisions novel Chapter 82

Chapter 82

I bang my fist against the door again, this time harder and even louder. “Harley!” My tone cracks, sounding rough and raw. Seconds pass. Then minutes. I take a step back, my breath coming quicker now as I scan her living room windows for any small sign of her. I’m about to knock again when the door swings open. And there’s Mike his stance wide, his shoulders tense, and his eyes full of warning.

I don’t wait for him to say anything. I go to push past him, my body instinctively moving toward the one place I need to be, towards her, when his palm lands on my chest, effectively stopping me in my tracks on her threshold.

“Thane,” Mike says, his voice sharp and laced with warning. “Don’t do this.”

I rake my eyes up from where his hand is still halting my progress, till they reach his. His eyes are rigid and unwavering. I know that look. It’s the kind of look a man gives when he’s ready to take a bullet for someone he cares about.

“Don’t fuck this up, Thane. Not with her. Not with Harley,” he declares with an intensity that has even me giving him a double–take.

I open my mouth to respond, to tell him that he’s not the one who’s going to decide what I do, but before I can say a word, I hear it

The soft rustle of fabric followed by a soft breath. And then, in the low light of the living room, there she is–Harley. Sitting back on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, and her back arched just slightly in a way that makes my chest tighten. She’s so still, so quiet.

My heart clenches painfully, and the weight of everything I’ve done hits me like a freight train.

For a moment, all I can do is stand there, staring at her. At the soft curve of her neck, the way the light catches in her hair, and the shadows beneath her eyes that tell me she’s tired, physically and emotionally.

I don’t speak. I can’t.

But my instincts drive me forward, and I go to her. I drop to my knees in front of the couch where she’s sitting without thinking, and without even considering that 1, Thane Draeven, the Vampire King of the Americas region, don’t kneel for anyone. Ever.

But I do it now. For her. For the woman who’s turned my world upside down and made me question everything I thought I knew.

She flinches when my fingers touch hers, but I don’t pull away. “Harley,” I say softly, my voice low and barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder might shatter something fragile between us. “I’m here. I’m…..”

I stop myself–words, apologies–they’re not enough. I can see it in her eyes, which are led with a raw edge of pain and uncertainty. She doesn’t trust me right now, not after everything that’s happened.

I take her hand fully, lacing my fingers through hers, as if anchoring us both to this moment and this space. I stay there, kneeling before her, letting the silence stretch between us.

earlier. And

“Thane,” she murmurs after a long pause, her voice hoarse. It’s the first time she’s said my name since I held her on the dancefloor ea it’s like a lifeline, something I can hold on to. “Why are you here?”

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify