Daelan POV
This is not how I planned to say it.
Hell, I don't even know how I planned to say it.
I just know it wasn't supposed to slip out like that—half gasped, half groaned, worshipping her name as if it were the only word I remembered.
But it did. And now the words are out there, sitting heavy in the space between us.
I shift forward, planting my feet on the cold marble floor, and press my palms into my knees. My elbows dig in as I lean over, shoulders tense. I run a hand through my hair, gripping the strands at the base of my neck.
The words still feel foreign. Not because they're a lie—never that. But because they carry a weight I've never let myself hold before.
I do love her.
Gods, I'd die for her.
So why the hell am I so freaked out?