CHAPTER 73: CHAPTER 73: THE DISTANCE BETWEEN US

Kieran had barely finished rinsing the plates from their late breakfast when the second doorbell rang. He didn’t seem surprised because he had been waiting for it.

Selene, on the other hand, was surprised by the ringing bell, but it soon died when she remembered there was a parcel coming for her.

"That must be the gown," she murmured under her breath, rising.

Kieran said nothing. His hands were already dry. His posture was quiet and unassuming. But behind the black mask, his eyes darkened.

Of course, it was the gown.

He had known it was arriving today; he knew almost everything now.

She returned with the parcel in hand, excitement faintly warming her features. She didn’t smile often, but when she did—when her focus left the weight of her past and settled on something new—

"I’ll be quick," she added. "I need to get ready before sunset, and I have to visit someone. The party starts early."

"If you want to, you can go. Because soon I will leave too," Selene suggested, but Kieran said, "Then I will go after you’ve left. I am not that busy like you think. Some hours do not matter at all."

There was a strange finality in his tone, one that made Selene glance at him over her shoulder for a second longer than necessary. She didn’t ask. She never did. But lately, his silences had started to feel heavier than his words.

"Suit yourself," Selene said and disappeared behind the bedroom. For several minutes there was only the quiet swish of fabric, the shifting of hangers, and the occasional muttered curse.

Kieran sank into the sofa like he owned the place—relaxed, unbothered, like the world outside didn’t matter. His head leaned back lazily, his sharp jawline catching the light, and the muscles in his neck and arms hinted through the fabric of his shirt.

He looked calm, almost bored, like a man who’d seen it all and wasn’t impressed. But behind those steady eyes, his mind was ticking, never still—like a wolf pretending to sleep.

He’d always been good at pretending. Pretending he wasn’t watching. Pretending he didn’t care. But she didn’t know what it took to stay this still. To resist the urge to reach out and trace the delicate storm she carried with her everywhere she went.

When she stepped out, the world stilled.

Kieran had seen a thousand faces. A hundred women in gowns with bloodied smiles and knives beneath their corsets. He had seen queens and murderers and monsters wear silk like armor.

But he had never seen her like this.

The gown clung to her like liquid starlight—deep indigo, almost black, catching glints of silver with every movement. It wrapped around her shoulders and left them bare, the fabric dipping just low enough to tease, just high enough to remain infuriatingly elegant.

Her hair was pinned loosely, tendrils falling over her collarbone. Her throat gleamed—it was bare, vulnerable.

And she didn’t even realize what she looked like.

Maybe that was the most dangerous thing about her. The way she never understood the power she wielded just by existing in the same room as him.

Kieran’s breath left him in a low exhale, barely audible.

Her brow furrowed. "Does it look... alright?"

There was something almost childlike in her question...tentative and uncertain. A rare crack in the armor she always wore. And for a fleeting second, Kieran hated everyone who had ever made her question her own beauty.

He nodded once. "You look..."

Dangerous.

Untouchable.

Like you were made to be ruined.

He cleared his throat. "Perfect."

Selene turned back to the table, picking up a set of bracelets. It was an enchanted bracelet that would help her hide her scent.

She didn’t notice the way Kieran stepped behind her. He slowly removed the bracelet and said, "Wear it when you are there, not now."

Selene was confused. "Why? What does it matter... whether I wear it now or that time?" she muttered, increasingly finding it hard to understand this man, who only spoke a few words.

"Just do as I say," he said, slowly breathing beside her ear, and Selene felt a shudder run through her body.

He hadn’t meant to get so close. But proximity was a dangerous thing, and right now, he was standing in the fire, daring it to burn him.

But before she could ask him what he was doing behind her, so close, she felt a chain slipping through her neck, his hand slowly clasping the chain behind her neck.

His fingers brushed her skin.

Just once.

But it was enough.

The contact was fleeting, almost clinical. But for him, it was agony dressed in silence. Her warmth lingered against his fingers like something holy.

Selene didn’t react. She was busy checking the chain he clasped around her neck. "What is this?"

"Amm... I designed it. Try how it looks on you."

"It is beautiful. Don’t give it to me to try... I am not going to return it," Selene said. She was actually loving the chain; it was so minimalistic and beautiful.

"Then don’t."

Selene’s heart skipped a beat. Is he just going to leave it with her? She realized that it was actually her first gift—albeit she took it by herself... but somewhere in her heart, she was happy.

"You’ll be careful," Kieran said, still standing behind her. "With the wolves. If something happens, call me."

She rolled her eyes. "You sound like Sara."

"I mean it."

His voice was low. Firm. Almost too steady.

She paused—just long enough to glance back over her shoulder. He wasn’t looking at her anymore. Or so it seemed. His eyes had dropped to the table, his face unreadable beneath the black mask.

She turned away.

"Thanks for the help," she murmured, fiddling with a bracelet in her hand she had still not worn.

He didn’t answer.

And she didn’t see the way his eyes rose again the second her back was turned.

Didn’t see the way he drank in every line of her.

Didn’t feel the way his hand hovered half an inch from her waist before pulling back, tightening into a fist.