Alive.
After everything.
My lion. My ironheart. My fire.
And me—whole, for the first time in years.
Then Slade stirred, lashes fluttering.
“Hi,” I whispered.
His lips curled faintly. “Hi back.”
I leaned down and kissed him—soft and slow. He pulled me against him, his arms encircling me with the kind of strength I’d always known he had. Protective. Grounded. Mine.
His skin was warm beneath me—solid, sun-kissed, and alive. I slid my hands over the ridges of his abdomen, feeling the raw strength coiled just beneath the surface. His body was hard and real, a living answer to every nightmare I’d endured. Every breath against my throat sent sparks down my spine.
I straddled him slowly, letting the thin fabric of my nightgown become a barrier of torment between us. The heat of him pressed against my core—thick, ready—and I shivered.
He groaned softly, a low sound deep in his chest, and I felt it echo through me. “We’ll wake the others,” he murmured, lips grazing the hollow of my neck.
“I don’t care,” I whispered, biting gently at his earlobe. “Do you?”
His answer came not in words, but in the sudden way his hands gripped my hips—possessive, reverent. He slid beneath the hem of my gown, calloused palms running over the backs of my thighs, up to the curve of my waist. Like he was memorizing every inch. Like this might vanish if he didn’t map it properly.
“Take this off,” he growled, voice rough with need.
I obeyed without hesitation, the gown fluttering to the floor like a sigh.
He stared up at me for a beat, like I was something sacred. Then his mouth claimed me—tongue tracing the peak of one breast, then the other, lips tugging with just enough pressure to make my breath catch. Fire crackled under my skin, my body arching into him on instinct.
His stubble scraped against my sensitive skin as he trailed kisses lower, lower—every inch he worshipped coaxing another ripple of pleasure. When he finally reached the apex of my thighs, I was already shaking.
And then—his tongue. Hot. Gentle. Expert.
I cried out, a strangled moan caught between pleasure and disbelief. My hand tangled in his hair, fingers clutching for grounding.
A chuckle sounded beside us.
Leo.
He lay half-covered in the sheets, golden hair a wild halo, one hand lazily wrapped around himself. “Nowthis,” he said, voice hoarse and amused, “is a view worth waking for.”
Slade didn’t stop.
He buried his face between my thighs with renewed focus, licking and sucking until my legs trembled. My eyes met Leo’s. I was flushed, panting—but unafraid.
“I need you too,” I whispered, barely audible.
That was all it took.
Leo crossed the space like a storm. His mouth was on mine, kissing me with the kind of hunger that made my knees weak. I reached for him instinctively, wrapping my hand around the hard length of him, stroking with slow purpose. His breath faltered, lips pulling from mine in a shaky groan.
“Flip her,” Slade said roughly from below.
Leo obeyed, easing me onto all fours like I was breakable—precious. He knelt in front of me, cock teasing the seam of my lips.
“Be a good girl,” he murmured, voice like velvet and danger.
