Kael didn’t move away.
Not this time.
The space between them stayed closed, his hand still resting at her waist, his presence steady—but something in him had changed.
Less patient.
More certain.
“You’re still holding back,” he said.
Lyra’s breath was uneven. “I told you—I’m trying.”
“I don’t want you to try,” he replied.
Her brows furrowed. “Then what do you want from me?”
Kael’s gaze locked onto hers.
“Clarity.”
The word landed hard.
Because it wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t flexible.
It meant one thing.
A decision.
Lyra swallowed, her chest tightening. “I just need a little more—”
“No.”
The interruption was immediate.
Firm.
For the first time—
He didn’t let her finish.
“You’ve had time,” Kael said. “You had it before. You had it when he was here.”
His voice wasn’t raised.
