6: The Awakening of Desire

Isabella’s POV

His silver eyes flickered, his expression shifting.

For the first time since I met him, Luca Devereaux hesitated.

And that was all the confirmation I needed.

Luca’s jaw tightened.

But he said nothing.

He didn’t answer, just stood there, silent, his jaw tight, his silver eyes unreadable. The confirmation was in his silence. He wasn’t denying it, wasn’t even attempting to mask the truth. He simply let it hang in the air between us, suffocating, undeniable.

Something inside me twisted—anger, fear, hunger. A storm of emotions crashed into me all at once, each more disorienting than the last. I had spent days trying to convince myself that I was merely a pawn in their twisted game, that my role was insignificant, that I was just another victim trapped in the middle of a war between two monsters. But I wasn’t just a captive. I wasn’t just a girl caught between them. I was something more.

Something he was afraid to name.

The realization made my pulse quicken, the weight in my chest pressing down like an unseen force. It coiled and twisted, growing heavier by the second, something unnatural clawing its way to the surface. My skin burned, my breath came in uneven gasps, and my veins pulsed erratically as though something inside me was shifting, breaking apart, reforming into something new.

The edges of my vision blurred. My knees buckled. The world tilted beneath my feet.

Luca moved before I could hit the floor. His arms wrapped around me, solid and unyielding, his grip possessive in a way that made me shudder. The heat of his body against mine sent a jolt through my spine, setting every nerve ablaze.

"Shh, dolcezza." His voice was low, smooth, but there was an edge beneath it, something raw and dangerous.

A warning.

A promise.

His thumb brushed against my cheek, the touch almost tender, but there was restraint in it. As if he was holding back something much darker. Like he wanted to do so much more. I could feel the tension vibrating beneath his skin, the controlled fury in the way his fingers skimmed over my jawline.

"You need to rest," he murmured, though there was something in his tone that suggested rest was the last thing on his mind.

I opened my mouth to argue, to push him away, to demand answers, but the moment his fingers grazed my throat, something inside me snapped.

A shockwave of heat rolled through me, sudden and violent, burning through every cell in my body. It wasn’t just a spark—it was a wildfire, raging, untamed, hungry. My breath hitched, my back arching instinctively as the sensation overtook me. My body trembled, every nerve hyperaware of his touch, of the way his hands lingered just long enough to drive me insane.

What was this?

It wasn’t normal.

It wasn’t just desire.

It was need, primal and all-consuming, something that existed beyond logic, beyond reason.

Luca felt it too. I saw it in the way his silver eyes darkened, in the way his breathing slowed, too controlled, too measured. Like he was fighting something just as powerful.

I was shaking, trembling in his arms, and yet he didn’t let go. If anything, his grip tightened, as if savoring the way my body betrayed me.

As if he was enjoying every second of my unraveling.

"Let me go," I rasped, my voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.

His lips curled into a smirk, arrogant, wicked amusement dancing in his gaze. "You don’t mean that."

I hated him. Hated that he was right.

His hand drifted lower, fingers barely skimming over my stomach, the touch so light it was more torturous than soothing. I sucked in a sharp breath, my body betraying me yet again, reacting to him in ways I didn’t understand.

A sound escaped my lips before I could stop it—a whimper, soft and desperate.

Mortification crashed over me, but it was too late.

He had heard it.

Luca chuckled, dark and knowing, his amusement laced with something far more sinister.

"Look at you," he murmured, tilting my chin up with a single finger. His thumb ghosted over my lower lip, and I shuddered.

"You’re burning for me, aren’t you, dolcezza?"

I clenched my jaw, fighting against the molten heat curling up my spine, the traitorous ache that only intensified with every breath I took.

"Go to hell."

Luca leaned in, his breath hot against my ear, his words a whisper that sent another jolt through me. "I’ll take you with me."

I needed to get away from him.

But my body wouldn’t obey. The craving was too strong, the pull too powerful. Something inside me was screaming for more, an unfamiliar hunger clawing at my insides, demanding to be fed. I had never felt anything like this before—this unbearable tension, this heat, this unbearable longing that refused to be ignored.

Luca inched closer, his lips hovering over mine, not quite touching, teasing, torturing.

"You can fight it all you want," he murmured.

"But this hunger? It won’t stop until you accept what you already know."

I hated that he was right.

His hand skated lower, barely grazing my hip. I tensed, my breath coming out in ragged gasps.

Every fiber of my being was at war with itself, torn between running and staying, between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

Luca smirked, his confidence infuriating, intoxicating. "I could make it stop," he whispered, his lips ghosting over my jaw, not quite touching.

"I could give you what you need."

I shook my head, refusing to let him win, refusing to surrender to whatever this was. But the truth was, I was already losing.

His silver eyes burned into mine, intense, unreadable.

"You’ll beg for it soon enough."

And then—he was gone.