Now I know who he is.Whathe is. And the fact that he threw it all away for me...
I need him. The thought shoves all others aside, and for once, I’m not afraid of what it means.
Ineedhim.
My brows lower, and my lips part. My pulse races as I sway closer to Gabriel, unable to stay away. His eyes sweep over mine, and his warm breath skates over my lips. Any closer, and we’d be sharing air. We’re not touching, not yet, but my body feels like it’s burning from the sparks flying between us.
Gabriel whispers, answering the question I almost forgot I asked, “You know why, Wren.”
And I’m not sure if it’s the way he says my name, the way his eyes darken as he looks at me, or the fact that he turned on his vows for me, but I can no longer remember why this is a bad idea. Why I should stay away from him.
Gabriel killed for me, again, and he painted a target on his back to defend me. No one has ever done anything like that for me.
Yes, he hunted me, but also he saved me and my sisters. And I’m tired of fighting against this pull deep inside me, the one insisting he’s mine.
I don’t want to keep my distance any longer. I lift my head and tip forward, closing the space between us. I need a taste, so, I kiss him.
10
ALWAYS DEATH, NEVER LIFE
GABRIEL
Wren’s lips are soft and plump as they stroke against mine. Each movement is delicate, verging on timid. As if she thinks that if she comes closer, if she truly kisses me, she might get more than she bargained for.
And maybe she’s right.
Having Wren in the saddle with me for days has been gods-damned torture. The way the luscious curve of her ass constantly brushed against my cock. The little sounds she made when we went over bumps. The way she relaxed over the past few days, letting herself rest against me.
My wounds are bothering me, and my right arm is incredibly sore. The makeshift bandage won’t stop the bleeding for much longer, but I don’t want to ruin this moment. This kiss is far more important to me than my injuries, which can wait.
I dreamed of her again last night. Ofus. Being together without any barriers, of feasting between her legs until she screamed my name.
Thoughts of sinking into her wet heat occupied my mind while I slept. I woke up hard and wanting, and I had to take a few minutes to take the edge off and regain my composure before another night of riding.
And then Hedran interrupted us.
The dream had been good, but this kiss is far more than anything I could’ve ever imagined. The wounds I received burn, but what are injuries right now? I would endure suffering far worse than this, kill a hundred more Hunters, if it meant I could kiss Wren again.
My fingers twitch at my sides, itching to tangle themselves in Wren’s curls and angle her head just so, deepening our embrace, but I don’t want to scare her off. Flames are already coursing through me from this brushing of our lips. It barely qualifies as a kiss, and yet it feels like I’m floating on air.
I lift my hand, intent on drawing Wren closer, when a feline head bumps insistently against my leg. If it happened once, I could ignore it, but when Mist does it again, I know she won’t leave us alone.
I pull back, even though doing so makes my chest ache. My mouth feels bereft of Wren’s, the kiss not nearly enough to sate the need that has been building within me for days. I never knew it was possible to yearn for someone so deeply, to want them so fucking much that it consumed my every thought.
A furry head bumps against my leg for a third time, and I glance down. Mist is next to me, a brown satchel clutched between her teeth. Her judgmental silver eyes drill into mine, and I swear she raises a brow, as if sayingReally? You had to kiss her here? Now?
I don’t bother replying. Mist is a wonderful familiar, and our connection is special, but this draw I feel towards Wren is different. Ibarely understand it, and I’m not sure I could explain it to anyone else. All I know is thatthingdeep inside me wants more than a gentle kiss, more than a fleeting touch. It wants me to connect with Wren in a way that almost feels mystical.
“Well, hello, Mist.” Wren moves back, and suns save me, but I hate that she’s putting space between us.
The little bird crouches, her gorgeous lips sliding into a smile that I wish was directed at me. Wren reaches for my panther, hand extended. I expect Mist to jerk away and refuse her touch, since my panther has never allowed anyone but me to pet her, not even Maia and Theon, but instead Mist leansintoWren’s hand. The gods-blessed scratches behind Mist’s ears, murmuring something that sounds suspiciously likeGood kitty.
And Mistpurrs.
Stunned, I watch as Wren keeps petting with one hand, taking hold of the bag with the other. Mist opens her mouth obediently, giving up her prize and beaming at Wren, who scratches her once more. As if Mist were a simple house cat and not a deadly panther.
Clearly, I’m not the only one captivated by the gods-blessed.
