Fangs, Fate & Other Bad Decisions Chapter 106

I’ve got Harley’s hand in mine, and I’m leading her out of the penthouse and toward my private elevator. I can feel the weight of our conversations still hanging between us like a thick fog, but it’s different now. There’s a new understanding between us, unspoken yet clear—she’s not running. Not yet. And neither am I.

A few seconds later, we step out of the elevator and onto my private rooftop terrace, the doors silently sliding closed behind us, and I’m almost surprised by the way the space feels...welcoming. It’s open and expansive, with a sprawling, almost 360° view of the city below, and it’s currently bathed in the soft hues of the fading sun.

There’s a comfortable seating area off to the right, featuring plush cushions and tufted sofas beneath a glass-roofed pergola that invites you to relax. Copious amounts of string lights hang from above, their soft glow casting a warm ambiance throughout the space.

The plants scattered all over also catch my attention. Lush greenery stretches around the terrace, climbing up trellises and hanging in baskets. The space is tranquil, almost untouched, despite the fact that I’ve spent far too much time in this apartment and barely glanced at it. I’ve never truly used it, or more accurately, I never truly allowed myself to enjoy it. Not like this.

Harley, though? Her eyes instantly light up when she steps out onto the terrace. She walks forward without waiting to see if I’ll follow, taking in her surroundings. Her gaze roams over the vibrant plants, the lights, and the open space, as she smiles. All the while, her expression is a mix of awe and appreciation, and it causes me to feel a strange pull in my chest.

"This is beautiful," she murmurs as she takes another step forward and her fingers brush lightly over a hanging fern. Her voice is soft, and I realize I haven’t seen her this genuinely relaxed, except for when she was shelving her books in the library earlier. It’s as if the weight of the world seems to lift off her shoulders in the comfort of this space.

"I’m glad you like it," I say quietly, as I watch her closely. "You can do whatever you want with it. This is your place, too, Harley. It’s yours to shape, to make whatever you need it to be."

Her eyes flick back to me, and there’s a hint of surprise that sparks in them as she processes my words. I don’t know why I’m offering it, why I’m giving her this piece of my life, but it feels right. It feels like something I need to do—like a promise to her that I can’t keep her in a cage, no matter how much my instincts scream otherwise.

She tilts her head and her lips curl up at the corners as she says, “I don’t think I’ll do much to it. But thank you. For letting me know it’s here.”

I step towards the seating area and offer her a seat in one of the plush chairs, two wine glasses, and a bottle of wine already set on the small side table beside it. I pour the rich red wine that I asked Griffin earlier to bring up here, into the two glasses, and hand one to her as I settle into the seat next to her. The silence between us that follows as we sip our wine feels comfortable, like we’ve both been given permission to just exist in the moment, with no expectations and no pressure.

I watch as Harley takes another sip from her glass, and her gaze is distant for a moment. I can see her thoughts swirling, and her internal conflict is still very much present. She’s grappling with something, I can feel it. It’s more than just the weight of the supernatural world I’ve thrust upon her—it’s deeper than that. It’s about us. About what we are, and what we could be.

She suddenly sets her glass down, and her fingers brush over the rim absentmindedly as she looks up at the city skyline. "I’m not sure what happens next, Thane," she says, her voice quiet but steady. "I don’t know if I’m ready for any of it. For *you*. For whatever *this* is."

I don’t interrupt her, giving her the space she needs. I can sense the vulnerability in her words, the uncertainty in the way she holds herself, and yet also the resolve.

"I don’t know if I can keep living two lives, Thane. Your world, my world... I’m not sure if they can co-exist. Or if I even want them to." She finally looks at me, and there’s a rawness in her eyes that hits me harder than anything else. "I know I don’t belong here. Not really."

I open my mouth to speak, but I stop myself, unsure of what to say. The truth is, she’s right. She doesn’t belong in this world. Not the way I do. But the more I look at her, the more I realize I don’t want to pull her into a life of danger and deceit. I just want her to be here, with me, even if it’s for a little while.

“I can’t ask you to choose this life,” I say softly, and my voice is low as I reach out and place my hand on the armrest of her chair. “I won’t force you into it. If you need time... I’ll give it to you. No matter what, I want you to be safe. And if that means walking away, I’ll let you go.”

Harley’s eyes soften, but she doesn’t look away. She looks at me like she’s seeing me for the first time, and she’s trying to read the sincerity in my voice. She’s been holding herself back from me, from everything, and I’m not sure what to do with that.

“I don’t want to lose you,” I admit quietly, my voice almost a whisper. "But I also know this isn’t just about me. It’s about you, too. You have to make your own choice. And I have to respect it.”

For a long moment, she’s silent, her fingers still tracing the edge of her glass. I can’t tell if she’s still trying to make sense of everything, or if she’s thinking about walking away. Either way, the tension in the air thickens, and I can feel it—her hesitation, her fear, and something else. Something deeper.

“I know I don’t belong in this world,” she says after a long pause. “But I don’t want to walk away either. Not yet.”

At her words, my heart skips a beat. She’s not running. She’s staying. And it’s all I could’ve asked for.

“But I need time, Thane. I need to figure this out. I can’t promise you anything just yet.”

I nod, understanding completely. I don’t need promises from her. I just need her to stay, to be here with me, even if it’s only for a little while. I can’t ask for more than that. Not when everything is so new and unknown.

“I’m not going anywhere, Harley. I’ll be right here, no matter what you decide. And I’m not asking you to make any big decisions today or even tomorrow. I just want you to know that I’m here for you. Whenever *you’re* ready.”

The vulnerability between us deepens then, and for the first time, I see her truly let go. I see her as something other than the woman who’s caught in the whirlwind of my world. I see her as the woman I need her to be: strong, independent, yet willing to give us a chance.

Her eyes again meet mine, and I know without a doubt that no matter what happens, we’ll get through this.