I couldn’t pull away. And the truth was that I didn’t want to.

That kiss went deeper than I’d been prepared for. Longer. It lit tiny fires within my veins, dripping little bits of flame that trailed to burn low in my body. When our kiss had finally run its course, Jace leaned back a few inches and my eyes watered as my tortured gaze met his. “Why is this so hard?” I whispered.

His pulse leaped crazily at my admission. “Everything worth fighting for is hard.”

My hand trailed down his arm. “When did you get so smart?”

That shadow passed over his eyes again. “When I realized that nothing else matters. There’s only my job, and you, Faythe. All the other stupid, petty shit is gone. There’s killing Calvin and earning a place in your life. That’s it. That’s my whole world now.”

No. It’s too much. My head shook slowly. It was hard enough being the almost-constant focus of Marc’s attention. I couldn’t be fully half of Jace’s world, too. That was too much attention. Too much pressure. Too much…trouble.

“Jace, this can’t happen.” I closed my eyes, thinking it would be easier to say without him looking back at me. But it wasn’t. “This isn’t just about us. I can’t leave Marc.” I opened my eyes again, hoping he’d believe me if he saw the truth in them. “I love Marc.”

“I’m not asking…”

“I know.” I let my hands uncurl uselessly in my lap. “You’re not asking me to leave him. But he won’t share. And I can’t ask him to.”

“Do you want him to?” Jace tried to don his blank face, but it didn’t work. Maybe I was too close to him now, and could see past it. Or maybe he could no longer defend against me. Either way, I saw what it cost him to ask me that, and it broke my heart.

“I don’t know.” Frustrated, I let my head fall back against my footboard. “I don’t know what I want, but I can’t lose Marc, and I will if you…if we…”

“Fine.” He frowned, and his suddenly hard gaze searched mine. “Tell me you want me to go, and I’ll walk away. I swear.”

“Jace…” But I couldn’t say it. And he knew it.

“You can’t, because you don’t want me to go.” I tried to argue, but he cut me off. “You feel something for me, and it’s not brotherly, and it’s not sympathy. It’s not even curiosity. Not anymore.” The suggestive spark in his eye sent flashbacks racing through me.

Me and Jace, on the floor of the guesthouse.

Intertwined in mutual pain and need.

Easing fresh grief the only way we knew how.

“Jace, this isn’t right. It’ll mess everything up.” It would tear the entire Pride apart.

He shook his head and held my good hand when I tried to pull away. “It’s not wrong just because it isn’t easy, Faythe. The only thing we’ve done wrong is keep it from Marc. We should tell him.”