Capítulo 23: Kiss

I stand on the balcony of my hotel room in City A, the cool evening breeze brushing against my skin. Below me, the city buzzes with life—lights flickering like stars, distant laughter and chatter rising up to meet the quiet hum of my thoughts. My mood is light, almost giddy, as I replay the events of earlier in my mind. The look on Dorian's face when Zander struck him was absolutely priceless.

I can't help the smirk that pulls at my lips. He deserved it, every ounce of humiliation he felt. While I may not have personally endured all the pain and suffering the original Ivan went through, I carry his memories like a second skin. And even the faintest flashbacks are enough to send shivers down my spine.

This—what I did tonight—It's a small dash of revenge. Revenge for the countless nights Ivan spent drowning in agony, for the way Dorian stripped him of his dignity, his autonomy, his worth. For every cruel word, every degrading touch, every moment that carved scars into his soul.

My thoughts drift to the cute little omega on Dorian's side. He must be the male lead of the story, the one described in glowing, almost poetic terms. Ethereal. Angelic. His beauty is almost otherworldly, the kind that steals your breathe away, he is cute.

I tilt my head, puzzled for a moment. How could Dorian look at a face like that, so delicate and enchanting, and feel anything but the instinct to protect? I thought omegas like him—soft-spoken and radiant—were supposed to trigger some primal urge to shield, to cherish. Isn't that what everyone says about those rare, precious cute types?

Then again, Dorian is no ordinary person. He's something else entirely. A psychopath, perhaps. It's the only explanation that fits. What kind of man could look into those innocent eyes, framed by long lashes that could sweep the stars out of the sky, and inflict harm?

The thought tightens something in my chest, a mix of pity for the omega and disgust for Dorian. I grip the balcony railing, the cold metal grounding me as I let out a slow, steady breath.

Suddenly, a hand pressed against the small of my back, startling me. The touch was direct, deliberate, and it sent a fiery jolt up my spine. I stiffened, heat surging to my face even as I bit back the instinct to pull away.

"You seem happy," Zander's voice rumbled low and deep, so close to my ear it made my breath hitch. "I guess you liked what I planned for the date."

He leaned closer, his warmth practically searing through my skin. My heart stuttered in my chest, a chaotic rhythm I couldn't control.

I tilted my head back slightly, letting the corner of my lips curl upward. "Yeah, your reaction was extremely believable too," I said, my voice teasing.

He let out a soft, amused huff, the sound vibrating against my skin. "It wasn't an act," he said, his tone dropping a notch, rougher, more intense. "Personally, I'd prefer to handle matters my way. The way he treated you..." His grip on my waist tightened, his fingers hot against my skin.

"Even I treat you with caution. How dare he?"

His words, the possessiveness in his tone, sent a thrill through me that I didn't want to examine too closely. "But I'll let you play," he continued, his voice softer now, his breath warm against the shell of my ear.

In one fluid motion, he turned me to face him, his hands firm but not forceful. My pulse raced as I met his gaze—dark, smoldering, and filled with an intensity that left no room for escape.

"This is too much," I murmured, my voice trembling slightly as I raised my arms to drape them around his neck. The pleased flicker in his eyes at the gesture was enough to send my heart into a frenzy. "How will I ever go back to my normal life after this?"

"That's the plan," he said smoothly, his lips quirking into a mischievous smile. His thumb brushed over my lower lip, and I shivered under his touch. "Now, will you give me a treat? Let me taste these lips."

His words struck something deep within me, something raw and vulnerable. The original Ivan's memories stirred like a storm in my mind, a wave of emotions that threatened to drown me. My dear, sweet Ivan—how traumatized you must have been, for something as simple as consent to feel so extraordinary.

Zander leaned closer, his scent enveloping me—a heady mix of warmth and spice, his pheromones weaving around me like an intoxicating spell. I couldn't resist.

Standing on my tiptoes, I tugged him down gently, my lips brushing against his in a tentative kiss. It was slow, almost shy, a test of the waters. But then his teeth grazed my bottom lip, a teasing nibble that sent sparks shooting down my spine.

The world seemed to tilt. It wasn't just a kiss—it was electric, a connection so powerful it left me breathless. I hadn't imagined it, the sparks from that night at the club. They were real, igniting again now in the space between us.

Zander's hands slid lower, his touch bold and unapologetic. When his palm cupped my butt, I gasped, and he took full advantage. His mouth captured mine in a deeper kiss, one that stole the air from my lungs and made my knees give way.

I sagged against him, boneless and overwhelmed, but Zander didn't let me fall. He steadied me effortlessly, his arms wrapping around my waist before lifting me. My legs instinctively curled around him, and he pulled me closer, his lips never leaving mine.

The kiss deepened, a consuming fire that left no room for thought, only sensation. His grip on me was firm, his strength anchoring me even as I felt like I was floating. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly, and the low growl he let out sent a thrill coursing through me.