Sweet.
She tasted warm and sweet and entirely too addictive.
And when her lips parted beneath mine—fuck.
The low growl that tore from my chest barely sounded human.
My control snapped thread by thread.
Every instinct I possessed surged forward violently.
Protect her.
Claim her.
Keep her.
Mine.
The word echoed through my skull with terrifying force.
Not desire.
Not fantasy.
Recognition.
Ancient.
Final.
Mate.
Chapter 9-Amrin
Was this what flying felt like?
That was the first coherent thought I had the second Sten’s mouth crashed against mine.
Not butterflies.
Not sparks.
Not fireworks.
No.
This felt bigger than all of that.
Like gravity itself had loosened its hold on me.
I’d expected him to be cold.
Maybe because of his coloring. People associated blue with cold things, didn’t they?
Ice.
Winter.
