Kiss That Shouldn’t Happen

Amara’s back pressed against the cold wall as Lucian’s presence loomed over her. His hand rested beside her head, caging her in. His dark eyes burned into hers, sharp and unyielding.

“Who gave you the courage to speak like that?” His voice was low, almost a growl.

Her breath came in short, shaky bursts. She could still hear the gasps from the dinner, still feel the heat in her cheeks from daring to speak back.

No one had ever challenged Lucian Hale in public. And yet she had.

Amara swallowed hard, her voice trembling but steady enough. “Maybe I’m tired of being treated like I don’t exist.”

Lucian’s jaw tightened. “Careful.”

Something inside her snapped. Weeks of humiliation, of coldness, of being treated like nothing—it all boiled over.

“Why should I be careful?” she whispered fiercely, surprising even herself. “You’ve made it clear this marriage means nothing to you. That I mean nothing to you. So why does it matter what I say?”

Lucian’s eyes darkened dangerously. For a moment, she thought he would yell. Instead, he laughed—a bitter, humorless sound.

“You think you matter enough to make me angry?” he said, his lips curling. “You’re just a contract, Amara. A name on paper. Don’t mistake yourself for more.”

Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She clenched her fists, her voice cracking as she said, “Then why do you care what I do? Why do you care what I say?”

The question hung in the air like a challenge.

Lucian’s eyes flashed, his breath ragged.

And then, before she could blink, he moved.

His hand grabbed her chin, tilting her face up, and his mouth crashed onto hers.

The kiss was rough, demanding, full of anger. His lips were hard, punishing, as if he was trying to silence her rebellion, to remind her of the power he held.

Amara’s eyes widened, her hands pressed against his chest in shock. His heartbeat thudded beneath her palms, fast and unsteady. She wanted to push him away, but her body betrayed her. Heat shot through her veins, her knees trembling.

The world spun, her breath stolen, her heart racing so fast she thought it might break out of her chest.

And just as suddenly, he pulled away.

His chest rose and fell, his jaw tight, his eyes unreadable. For the first time, Lucian Hale looked almost… shaken.

Amara’s lips tingled, her entire body trembling. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

“What was that?” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Lucian’s expression hardened instantly, his mask snapping back into place. His voice was cold, cruel.

“That kiss,” he said sharply, “meant nothing.”

Her heart cracked at the words.

He stepped back, putting distance between them, his eyes icy once again. “Don’t mistake weakness for love, Amara. You’ll only end up disappointed.”

Amara’s throat ached as she fought back tears. She turned her face away, her hand brushing her lips, still burning from the force of his.

She hated him. She hated what he made her feel. And yet, deep down, a small voice whispered the truth she didn’t want to face—she had felt something in that kiss.

Something dangerous.

Lucian turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hall. But his mind was in chaos. His chest still heaved, his lips still tingled with her taste.

He clenched his fists.

It meant nothing. It has to mean nothing.