“I have to go,” Draven says, voice low, distant. “He was a Prime. As King, I need to be there. It's my duty.”
I sit beside him in his office, cold dread pooling in my stomach. It feels like watching someone walk to their own funeral. We’re not any closer to breaking the leash. We’re not any closer to real answers.
“I feel like it’s a trap,” I whisper.
“I know,” he says.
He reaches for me, pulling me gently into his lap. I don’t resist. His arms wrap around me like armor, and the tightness in my chest loosens just a little.
Ever since my side of the bond flared back to life, everything between us has shifted. We're closer. Warmer. But still cautious, like two people dancing at the edge of a cliff, afraid of what might happen if they fall.
He spoke to his uncle about the midwife who attended his birth. The only outsider who had access to him in those vulnerable first days. She had dark hair, was tall, soft-spoken. Her name might’ve been Cerella — I’m sure that wasn’t even her real name and that she wore a magical disguise. His uncle didn’t know how Draven’s mother met the woman or where she came from. Of course he wouldn’t, there was no reason for him to know details of the midwife his sister was going to use.
I have this gnawing feeling in my gut. Like the end is near. And neither of us knowshowit’s going to end. And the cruelest part? I’ve started falling for him. Maybe I already had — even before the bond returned. But now I live in this agonizing limbo where I want to move further with him but I’m too afraid to do it. Not until I know the danger is gone.
Neris, on the other hand, has no such thoughts. She already decided she just wants her mate, danger or not. She wants him completely. His love, his mark, his vows, his name on our skin. Danger be damned.
I’m the one holding us back. Maybe I should just follow her instincts. Well, not the marking part. Draven made a good point with that one, I wouldn’t want to find myself suddenly infected with the kind of magic that is keeping him leashed.
I tilt my head up and whisper, “Draven…”
He looks down at me, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “You said my name.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Throw yourself a parade later.”
I pause, my voice quieting. “I have to come with you to Mirenwulf. You can’t be away from me that long — the magic will get stronger. You’ll forget me again.”
I lift a hand and trace his jaw with slow movements.
“We don’t know what’s waiting for us there. We don’t know what our future is going to look like. But tonight…” I draw in a shaky breath. “I want it to be about us. No fear. No restraint. I don’t want you sleeping on the floor anymore. I want to take the next step. I want to strengthen our bond.”
He leans down and presses his mouth to mine. A kiss that’s soft and steady, connecting our souls to each other. When hespeaks again, his words are laced with warmth, curling around my heart like a promise.
“Whatever you want, my beautiful mate,” he whispers. “I only live to make you happy.”
He’s so close I can feel the heat rolling off him, see the blue in his eyes flicker like flame. We’re in my room and he’s been watching me for a few minutes now. He’s waiting for me to make the last move. To set the pace.
He wants me. I know he does. He’s made that clear with every touch, every gentle word, every moment he waited for me to come around. Even now — even with the hunger pouring from him in waves, thick and feral and a little bit terrifying — he’s still holding back. Following my lead.
I reach for his shirt and tug him closer. His lips part in a question, breath fanning across my cheek.
“Are you sure?” he whispers, voice hoarse.
“Yes,” I say, honest to the bone. Because I am. There’s not one doubt left in my mind about him. There’s just fear for our future. But I know I want him — I am completely sure about that.
His arms wrap around me, lifting me until my feet dangle. I gasp, clutching at his shoulders. He carries me to the bed and sets me down like I’m made of spun sugar, then sinks to his knees in front of me. Massive, beautiful. And mine.
He waits, palms splayed on the edge of the mattress, watching me carefully.
I reach for him, thread my fingers into his hair, pull him up until his mouth is pressed to mine. He kisses me like he’s been waiting for this his entire life. It’s a little desperate, a little wild, and when his tongue sweeps over my lower lip, I can’t stop a moan leaving me.
He growls, deep in his chest. It vibrates through me, making my toes curl.
He presses me back into the sheets and the world narrows to the two of us. To the heat of his body and the feel of his hands. He explores every inch — my throat, my shoulders, the curve of my waist — slow at first, then faster, greedy. I arch beneath him. I want more. All of him.
His hand slides up my thigh, pauses at the edge of my shorts.
“Tell me to stop,” he rasps, “and I will. I swear it, Kass.”
