"I didn't want to burden you, Kalix," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath—soft, like the calm before a storm.
Kalix froze. For a fleeting second, something flickered across his face—something raw and unguarded. Then he leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers, his hands gently cradling her face. The warmth of his touch grounded her, but it did nothing to quiet the ache inside her chest.
"You were never a burden, Angel," he said, voice thick with emotion. "You're the priority. Hell—you're the only priority."
Winter's breath caught.
She pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes—and what she saw there made her heart twist painfully. The intensity in his gaze was scorching. It wasn't just love.
It was need.
It was fear.
It was desperation—the kind that clings to a man who's finally found what he can't afford to lose.
And that terrifying truth? She was at the center of it.
Her lips parted, but Kalix spoke first.
