A laugh escaped her. “You hid it well.”
“I’ve had practice hiding things.” He cupped the back of her neck, drawing her close until their noses touched, breathing her in. “I’m done hiding. Done waiting. Done pretending I don’t want everything with you.”
“Hux—”
“I want to claim you, Luna. Tonight. Before the battle.”
She went absolutely still in his arms.
The words hung between them,heavier than the celestial energy humming through the air.
“Not because I think we’ll lose,” Hux continued, his voice rough with everything he’d been holding back. “Because I want to go into this fight knowing we’ve chosen each other completely. Because I want my lion’s teeth in your shoulder and your starlight in my soul and no more doubt about what we are to each other.”
“The curse?—”
“Is already breaking.” He drew back enough to see her face, to watch understanding dawn in her eyes. “The candle showed you. The Fate Lilies keep blooming gold when we pass. Something is changing in me, Luna.You’rechanging it. And I want to see what happens when we stop holding back.”
Her hands came up to grip his wrists, not pulling away but anchoring herself. Her pulse raced beneath his palms.
“Claiming is permanent,” she said. “Even if we survive the Convergence, even if we break the curse completely—you’d be bound to me forever. A witch who sees death in stars. A woman who spent years running from everyone she cared about.”
“I’d be bound to the woman I love.” His lion rumbled beneath his skin, impatient, certain. “The woman who chose to stay. Who saved my life with starlight. Who made me feel whole when I’d given up on ever feeling anything.”
“You might regret it.”
“Never.”
“Hux—”
“Tell me you don’t want it.” He brushed his lips against her forehead, her temple, the corner of her mouth. “Tell me you don’t want my mark on your skin and my name claimed yours. Tell me, and I’ll stop.”
She shuddered. Her fingers tightened on his wrists.
“I can’t.” The words came out broken, honest. “I can’t tell you I don’t want it, because I do. I want everything with you. I want to stop running. I want to stay.”
“Then let me claim you.”
She kissed him.
The kiss of a woman making a choice—throwing herself off a cliff and trusting him to catch her. Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer. Her body pressed against his, warm curves and urgent need.
His lion roared approval.
THIRTY-FIVE
HUX
They barely made it to the cottage, stopping twice before they even reached the door.
“Inside,” she gasped against his mouth. “Now.”
“Patience.” He nipped at her bottom lip, savoring the way she trembled. “I’ve waited my whole life to feel this. I’m not rushing the actual claiming.”
“You’re infuriating.”
“So you keep telling me.” He kissed her again—slow and deep and full of promise. “I like to be thorough.”
“Thorough is for municipal reports.” Her hands tugged at his shirt, trying to find skin. “This is supposed to be passionate.”
