chapter four

Chapter Four

Gabriella’s POV

His hand slid along my waist, steady and certain, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. The air felt thick, charged, every breath heavier than the last as my fingers curled into the front of his shirt, holding on without thinking.

“Look at me,” he murmured.

Golden eyes met mine, sharp and unwavering, his thumb brushed lightly against my jaw, tilting my face up as his gaze searched mine like he already knew what he would find.

“Say my name.”

My breath hitched.

I should have pulled away. I should have stopped this.

But I didn’t.

“Killian…” I whispered.

The name felt wrong, and yet…It didn’t.

His grip tightened around my waist  just enough to send a shiver down my spine, approval flickering briefly in his expression before his hand slid to the back of my neck, drawing me closer again.

“Again.”

“Killian,” I said, softer this time, my voice barely steady as the sound of it filled the space between us.

His lips brushed my temple, slow, deliberate, and my eyes fluttered shut for a second I shouldn’t have allowed. Heat spread through my chest, sharp and consuming, my thoughts slipping in a way that made my pulse race harder.

“This is what you feel,” he said quietly, his breath warm against my skin. “Not him.”

My fingers tightened in his shirt.

“No,” I started, but the word came out weak.

His hand slid lower, firm against my back, anchoring me in place.

“Then say his name,” he murmured.

Silence stretched.

My lips parted.

Nothing came out.

His thumb traced slowly along my neck, right where the mark burned faintly beneath my skin, and my breath caught again, betraying me.

“That’s what I thought.”

The words settled deep, heavier than they should have.

I shook my head, trying to push against it, against him, against everything pulling me closer instead of away.

“This isn’t, ”

“Real?” he finished softly.

My chest tightened.

His gaze held mine, steady, certain, leaving no room to hide.

“Then walk away.”

I didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

Something in his expression shifted then, darker, more intent, as if he had been waiting for that exact moment.

“You can’t,” he said quietly.

A presence cut through the air.

Cold.

Sharp.

I turned—

Jacob stood at the doorway.

His eyes locked on us, something unreadable settling into his face, something that made my stomach drop instantly.

“Gabriella?”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

“No!”

I woke up with a sharp gasp.

My body jerked upright, breath coming fast, my chest rising and falling too quickly as reality snapped back into place around me. The room was quiet, dim, the faint morning light just beginning to creep through the curtains.

For a moment, I couldn’t move,I couldn't think, then I turned.

Jacob lay beside me, asleep, his breathing slow and even, completely undisturbed.

Relief flooded through me so suddenly it left me weak.

It wasn’t real.

It couldn’t have been.

I dragged a shaky breath through my lungs, pressing a hand against my chest as I tried to steady myself.

“Get a grip,” I muttered under my breath.

But the feeling lingered, it felt so real, the way I had said his name.

Killian.

My stomach tightened.

No.

That didn’t mean anything.

It couldn’t.

I swung my legs off the bed, needing space, needing air, needing anything that wasn’t that lingering heat crawling beneath my skin. The house was quiet as I made my way downstairs, each step grounding me just a little more.

The doorbell rang, sharp and so suddenly.

I froze, my pulse spiking again without warning.

“Who is that this early…” I murmured, brushing my hair back as I moved toward the door.

Another ring. Whoever that was, was so impatient.

I reached for the handle, pulled the door open, and everything inside me went still.

Killian stood there, calm and composed.

As if he had always been meant to be right there on the other side of that door.

His golden eyes met mine, steady and unreadable, and for a brief second, something dark flickered behind them.

My breath caught.

He tilted his head slightly, studying me, taking in every reaction I couldn’t hide.

“Good morning.”

The moment I saw him, instinct took over. I pushed him away from the doorway immediately, stepping outside and shutting the door firmly behind me before he could even think of walking in.

He didn’t resist.

Of course he didn’t.

He just stood there, that same annoying, composed look on his face like he had already planned this moment down to the second.

I grabbed his wrist, more to ground myself than anything else, then glanced at the time on his watch.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded under my breath. “It’s six in the freaking morning. Couldn’t you pick another time to come and remind me of my sins?”

His lips curved slightly, not quite a smile.

“Why?” he asked calmly. “Were you dreaming about me, stepsis?”

My jaw tightened. “You’re really testing my patience.”

“How’s the mark coming up?” he continued smoothly, completely ignoring my tone. His free hand lifted and brushed lightly against my neck, right where the mark burned faintly beneath my skin.

My breath hitched.

The reaction only seemed to amuse him more.

“Has your beloved husband seen it yet?” he added.

I slapped his hand away immediately. “Don’t touch me. First of all, no, I wasn’t dreaming about you, and secondly, he hasn’t seen anything because no one is allowed to know about this… abomination.”

He made a soft sound, mimicking hurt, placing a hand dramatically over his chest. “Ouch. Abomination?”

His gaze darkened slightly, something more dangerous settling beneath the mockery.

“Your pretty little body would strongly disagree,” he said quietly. “And I know you’re lying about the dream.”

My stomach tightened.

“I can read your thoughts, remember?”

“Get the hell out of my head,” I snapped, my voice low but sharp. “You freak.”

His expression didn’t change.

“And did you just say he hasn’t seen it yet?” he continued, tilting his head slightly, studying me in a way that made my skin prickle. “That means since our night at the lodge… he hasn’t touched you.”

Heat rushed to my face.

“No wonder you’re this cranky,” he added, almost thoughtfully.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, folding my arms, even though something in his tone made my pulse shift.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” he said lightly, stepping a little closer, his voice dropping just enough to feel intentional. “After a woman is marked by her mate, things change.”

I didn’t respond.

Didn’t trust myself to.

He leaned in slightly, his gaze holding mine.

“Her body reacts,” he continued. “Her body becomes… restless, her control slips, and all she can think about is her mate’s touch.”

My breath slowed, then quickened again.

He watched it happen.

Of course he did.

“Am I right?” he asked softly, already knowing the answer.

“I don’t believe you,” I said quickly, pushing the words out before he could say anything else. “And you still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here?”

His lips curved again, slower this time.

More deliberate.

“Oh,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make something in my chest tighten, “I’m here to take my naughty little mate home.”

My breath caught.

“What?”