**Healing Slowly But Surely**
By R. Joseph
**The Kiss.**
Leilani.
In a moment that felt like time had suspended itself, his lips crashed against mine in a wild dance—a tango that was both fiery and chaotic, yet strangely intoxicating. The heat of it all sent delightful shivers through me, curling my toes in sheer pleasure.
As his tongue ventured into my mouth, a possessive claim that felt both familiar and foreign, the world around us faded into nothingness, dissolving into a sparkling haze of stardust.
The kiss was infused with urgency, as if he were racing against time, yet paradoxically slow, savoring each moment even while in a hurry—an odd juxtaposition that left me breathless.
A soft moan escaped my lips as his tongue playfully teased mine, sending an electric shiver racing down my spine. I could almost feel the unspoken emotions swirling between us, pouring into every movement, every brush of skin. This was more than just a fleeting moment of passion; it was a deep, aching need, a longing that echoed a thousand unvoiced words.
Words that would remain forever unspoken… words I had no desire to hear.
His hands glided up my back, slipping beneath the delicate fabric of my blouse, pulling me closer. The instant our skin met, it ignited a fire within me. Despite my better judgment, another involuntary moan slipped from my lips, my eyes fluttering shut as a wave of heat, like molten lava, surged to my core.
Every inch of my body throbbed with a desperate yearning, every fiber of my being cried out for him. I pressed against him, completely lost in the intensity of his embrace, my heart racing in sync with his, breaths coming in ragged gasps.
The connection between us was palpable, electric, and I feared I might drown in the torrent of sensations coursing through me.
His lips ground against mine, rough and possessive, yet there was a careful tenderness in his touch that made me sink deeper into the moment, momentarily forgetting that I was supposed to despise this man.
He was my sworn enemy.
My nemesis.
Suddenly, my head tilted back, and the world around us blurred, fading into nothing but the feverish heat of his lips and the intoxicating weight of his body pressed against mine.
In a desperate attempt to regain some semblance of control, my fingers tangled in his hair, holding on as if my very sanity depended on this kiss. If I let go, I feared I would lose myself entirely, consumed by the chaos his lips promised.
But then, as his hands began to trace a path up my legs, slipping dangerously close to the space between my thighs, my eyes shot open.
Reality crashed over me like a tidal wave.
Panic surged through me as I realized, with utter horror, that I had allowed Zevran—the infuriating Zevran—to touch me in a way that was anything but innocent.
A mix of horror and regret replaced the earlier desire, and without a second thought, I pushed him away, my hands trembling, my body quaking from the grave mistake I had just made.
Zevran stumbled back, licking his lips, and in that moment, I saw it clearly: he didn’t regret this encounter one bit—in fact, he relished it.
He wanted me.
With a smirk that sent my blood boiling, he taunted, “How long do you plan to keep lying to yourself?” A strange smugness danced in his eyes, and I could feel my anger boiling beneath the surface.
God, how I wanted to punch that smug grin off his face.
I wanted to wipe that smile clean away, to erase every trace of it forever.
Goddess, the urge to murder him was overwhelming.
Squeezing my eyes shut in a futile attempt to contain my fury, I felt my resolve crumbling. The scent of him clung to me, a reminder of the electric connection we’d shared, and the ghost of his touch lingered on my skin.
I was still so undeniably drawn to him.
Zevran opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a single word, I stormed into my house, slamming the door in his face, cutting off whatever nonsense he had planned to say.
After what felt like an eternity of trying—and failing—to calm my racing heart, I sank to the floor, shaking as a sob tore through my very being.
Hours later, after binge-watching ‘Euphoria’ and daydreaming about being Maddie while Chalice played Cassie (compressing all triplets into Nate’s character), I finally took a shower, ate breakfast around 3:39 PM, and ordered an Uber—my car still languishing in the parking lot at Frostclaw Inc.
As I arrived at the restaurant from the previous day, Jean-George stood there, looking like a scene straight out of ‘Barbie: Big City, Big Dreams.’ However, as soon as I paid my fare and stepped inside the elegant space, my mood dimmed like a streetlight flickering out.
I frowned, recognizing the three brothers seated across from me, arms crossed, their expressions unreadable. None of them rose to greet me—not that I had expected them to, but it still stung.
I hesitated, refusing to sit until invited. “It’s not a pleasure to see you today,” I drawled, ignoring their piercing gazes and striking features, blissfully disregarding the red marks still visible on Zevran’s face, like a flag of our conflict.
“You asked us to meet you today,” Caelum said, his tone dripping with annoyance. The moment he spoke, a wave of irritation washed over me. Out of the trio, Caelum held the most animosity toward me, and the feeling was mutual.
I shrugged, feigning indifference. “Yes, I did. We’re here to reject ourselves today so that I can live my life without your constant interruptions, and so you can freely wed our dear Chalice without fearing what I might do to sabotage your relationship.”
At my words, they froze, shock evident on their faces. But Zevran seemed the most affected. He slammed his fist against the table, causing the drinks to rattle dangerously. Rising slowly, his predatory gaze locked onto me, he declared, “No.”
My eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “Huh? No, what?”
“No, everything…”
“Zevran!” Kael and Caelum barked in unison, trying to rein him in, but he ignored them, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.
“You have to come back to the pack, Leilani,” he seethed, his tone commanding. But instead of feeling intimidated, I felt a wave of annoyance wash over me.
Rolling my eyes, I retorted, “I’d rather die than do that.”

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