Only enough to bare the slender column of her neck.
My control frays.
I draw her closer, holding her hand over my heart while my other slides lower, to the small of her back, slipping beneath her shirt. My thumb brushes bare skin. She stiffens, but doesn’t stop me.
That’s when I know I’m done for.
I bury my face in that delicate stretch of throat, lips against her skin, breathing her in like a starving man.
She trembles.
I feel her pulse racing beneath my mouth, hear the blood quicken in her veins. My lips part. My canines lengthen. I graze them along her neck, just a whisper of contact.
Then she makes a sound, soft and involuntary. A gasp that blooms into a breathless moan.
It shatters me.
And I am hard in an instant.
Then she breathes the word.
“Wait.”
It’s strained. Weak. A sound born of conflict, not conviction. But still, I stop.
I ease my hand from her waist, pull my face back from that sweet spot in the hollow of her neck. My pulse thrashes. My body aches. But I let her go, as much as I can bear.
“What is it?” I ask, trying not to reach for her again. Trying not to kiss her when my whole soul is begging for it.
Her lashes flutter, and for a moment her eyes are hazy, like she’s not entirely here. Then she meets my gaze.
“When were you going to tell me about the Binds of Fate?”
I go still. A windless hush sweeps between us. The golden threads curl tighter, pulsing in the space where we once touched.
“How did you know?” I ask, my voice unsteady.
Her gaze flicks to Solena, still straddling Orios, laughing breathlessly as he spins her like the world might end tomorrow.
Ah. Of course.
“I was going to tell you,” I murmur, shame dragging across my tongue. “In Pariseth. That night... I didn’t know it would be taken from us.”
Amara studies me, eyes narrowing, voice certain. “Is it true what that means?”
Her lips part slightly before she speaks again, the word raw and unfamiliar in her mouth.
“That we’re... mates?”
The sound of it makes my blood heat. A single word, and the bond between us hums like fire licking at dry wood.
“Yes,” I say, no hesitation. “Our destinies are woven together. Irrevocably. You are mine, Amara. As I am yours.”
She inhales sharply, but not in surrender. Her gaze flickers, her throat bobbing once as she looks away. The silence stretches and with it, dread coils in my gut.
“That… displeases you?” I ask, quieter now, bracing for the blow.
She doesn't answer.
