His fingers brushed her skin. Just a feather's graze, but it sent a spark racing through her veins. The faint glow beneath his touch pulsed—alive, answering to him in a way Tess couldn't explain.
She caught his hand before he could draw it away, holding it there, pressing his palm to her as if anchoring him, as if daring the world to rip them apart. She leaned in, breaths mingling with his.
The air thickened around them, heavy with tension, heavy with possibility. Her heart pounded so hard it hurt, urging her forward, urging her not to hesitate.
She tilted closer. Lips parted. Ready to close the distance, ready to kiss him, to bridge the silence that had grown between them since her return.
But Lanse pulled away.
The world shattered with that single motion. His hand slipped from hers. His body retreated a step, creating a gulf wider than any battlefield between them. The silence that followed was unbearable, crushing down on her chest until she could hardly breathe.
