Isla’s POV
The world went silent. Not quiet. Silent.
Like the walls of the hallway, the air, even my breathing, all of it froze the second Zayne said those words.
They didn’t sound like a question. They sounded like a vow. A blade drawn slowly across the space between us.
A promise sharp enough to cut through my chest.
My lips parted, but nothing came out at first. My throat locked, as if the word trying to rise—no—was made of stone.
He stood so close his breath brushed my cheek, warm and steady, while mine came out in shallow, uneven bursts. His forehead still touched mine, the heat of him sinking into me, claiming space I didn’t know I’d given.
My heart slammed against my ribs hard enough to hurt.
No. No, no, no.
But God, a part of me wanted to say yes so badly it terrified me.
