Recent content by Cullen

Cullen watched the way her expression shifted and softened, vulnerable in a way few ever got to see. He’d always known she was strong. But this? Asking him to stay? That was the kind of strength she rarely let herself show. He stood slowly as she moved to the bed, his broad frame casting a long...

Cullen’s heart ached in his chest at the sight of her. All that strength Nadya carried like a mantle had cracked, and what lay beneath it was just a girl. Frightened, vulnerable, honest at last. He could see it all now. The fear she carried like armour. The pride that kept her from ever asking...

Cullen stayed quiet even as Nadya pulled away, his hand slipping from her hair but not far from her. He watched her with a softness in his eyes, even as she sat beside him looking like the ghost of the warrior he’d always known. She was raw now. There was no armour left. No commands, no scowls...

Cullen stiffened as her body collided with his. For a breath, his arms remained at his sides, rigid and uncertain, because it wasn’t an apology. It was Nadya taking what she wanted. But then the sound came. A raw, guttural sob that cracked something in him. Then another. And another. Until her...

Cullen didn’t move at first. Her sobs hit him hard, but he didn’t reach for her. Didn’t comfort her. Not now. He stood frozen in the eye of the storm, staring at her shaking frame, her shoulders trembling, voice broken, grief pouring from her in shattered pieces as she pushed him away. His...

Cullen stopped dead in front of her, breath ragged, eyes gleaming with disbelief and fury as she dared to ask him if he was satisfied. In a heartbeat, he was toe to toe with her, his voice rising, shaking, broken from too many wounds that had never quite healed. “Me?! Are you—are you fucking...

Cullen’s entire body thrummed with tension. With fury, with grief, with the unspeakable ache that came from being so seen and so misunderstood all at once. Her words were blades. Each one cut deeper than the last. Still in love with Eira. Wanting to be played by her. Not the Lady he’d kneel...

Something in his chest cracked when she stood and moved away from him. The moment she tore from the bed and crossed the room, Cullen felt it, the part of him that still believed he had time, still believed he could keep her at arm’s length without breaking both of them, splintered like rotted...

“Please don’t do this.” His voice was raw, barely above a whisper, but it cut through the quiet like a blade. He didn’t move, afraid even a breath in her direction might shatter her the rest of the way. “Nadya, please.” His hands were clenched in his lap, the tension in his fingers a poor...

Cullen's heart pounded violently against his ribs the moment she said the words. I want you, Cullen. I cannot go back to being just your friend... His breath hitched. “Nad—” he started, voice tight with the strain of all the things he wasn’t supposed to feel. But then her lips brushed his...

Cullen’s brow furrowed, the crease between his eyes deepening as she spoke of her plans. Of blood, and revenge, and what sounded dangerously close to walking back into Ilir’s jaws willingly. His arms tightened around her, not to restrain, but to hold her firmly in place, to make sure she heard...

His arms didn’t loosen, not even slightly, as her body shook with the weight of everything she’d carried alone for far too long. The silence between them wasn’t empty. It was a lifeline, a balm, the space she needed to unravel. But the moment she spoke Ilir’s name, spoke what he had done to...

Cullen couldn’t sit still, not when her sobs hit him like a blade between the ribs. The moment she crumpled behind her hand, trying to shield him from her grief, something in him gave way. The chair scraped back just a little as he stood, and then he was beside her, the mattress dipping under...

Cullen crossed the threshold the moment she allowed it. His steps were slow, careful, as though any sudden movement might shatter the fragile moment between them. The corner of his mouth twitched in something like relief when she spoke of Katerina. “Mh.. She’s dangerously good,” he murmured in...

Cullen stood in the doorway, silent for a heartbeat too long. The sweet bread in his hands was still warm, its honeyed scent drifting through the air between them. His damp hair clung to his face and the nape of his neck, he wore fresh clothes, loose black linen shirt and breeches, comfortable...