Bound by Lust

The silence between them was thick, suffocating. Neither of them moved, but the weight of Kael's gaze on Esme's face made her stomach twist. His fingers still hovered near her skin, a barely-there touch, but enough to send her thoughts spiraling.

She hated how easily he could do this to her.

Hated how, despite everything—despite her anger, her frustration—she could still feel the pull toward him.

Esme clenched her jaw and forced herself to step back, breaking the tension. She needed to get away from him, from whatever this was.

Kael watched her with sharp, unreadable eyes. He didn't try to stop her this time, but there was something in his gaze—something dark, something calculating—that made her uneasy.

"You're impossible," she muttered under her breath.

Kael let out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly. "And yet, you can't seem to ignore me."

Esme's fists clenched at her sides. Smug bastard.

"You're the one who came here," she shot back.

Kael took a step closer again, erasing the space she had just created. "And you're the one who keeps pushing," he murmured. "Tell me, Esme. What exactly do you want from me?"

She opened her mouth to argue, to say something—anything—to wipe that knowing look off his face, but the words wouldn't come.

What did she want?

She wanted him to acknowledge her.

She wanted him to stop pretending she didn't matter.

She wanted him to feel something.

But saying that out loud? That was dangerous. That was admitting too much.

So instead, she lifted her chin and said, "I want you to start treating me like I exist."

Kael's expression shifted just slightly—so subtle that if she hadn't been watching him so closely, she might have missed it.

Then, without warning, he reached for her, his hand wrapping around her wrist, pulling her toward him in one swift motion.

Esme gasped as she collided against his chest, her hands instinctively pressing against him. She could feel the heat of his body through his shirt, the steady rhythm of his breathing.

His grip was firm but not painful, his touch possessive in a way that sent an unexplainable thrill through her.

"You think I don't see you?" Kael's voice was low, almost dangerous. "You think I don't notice every single thing about you?"

Esme swallowed, her heart hammering against her ribs. She refused to let him see how much he affected her. "You have a strange way of showing it."

Kael's grip on her wrist tightened just slightly before he abruptly let go, stepping back.

The loss of his touch was more jarring than Esme expected.

"You want to be acknowledged?" Kael said, his voice back to its usual cold, controlled tone. "Then earn it."

Her eyes snapped to his, narrowing. "Excuse me?"

Kael turned away from her, as if dismissing the conversation entirely. "You're acting like you want a reaction from me," he said, walking toward the door. "Fine. Show me why I should care."

Esme's entire body tensed. "Are you saying I have to prove myself to you?"

Kael reached the door and paused, glancing over his shoulder. "I'm saying," he said slowly, deliberately, "if you want to play this game with me, Esme, you better be ready to lose."

And with that, he walked out, leaving her standing there, seething.

Her fists clenched at her sides.

Kael White had just declared war.

Fine.

Let the games begin.

****. ****. ****.