Pulling to a stop partway up the staircase, he peers down at me in concern.
“What are you doing?” I ask. “You don’t need to fuss over me. Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you, and I realise it was a lot easier when we thought fate or the moon gods or whatever were smiling down on us and blessing our connection, but...”
“I don’t care about any of that,” he replies, shaking his head vigorously. He then glances around as there’s a roar from the crowded foyer. “Can we go somewhere quieter to talk? Maybe you can also persuade Aster to come out of his cave for a few hours.”
Most of my frustration just dries up, as though it was never there, and I find myself nodding. “All right, then.”
He strides ahead of me as we head up the first staircase and then up another and another, pointing out where the boards still need replacing and where the bannister still wobbles. As we climb higher, toward the room where Aster has set himself up in a makeshift med bay, the sounds of the party become a low hum of background noise rather than an assault on our ears.
“I thought you were dead, Reva,” Torin rasps with a shaky inhale as we reach the top of the staircase. “When the mate mark disappeared, that was what I assumed had happened. And even though our bond was a weird, mangled thing and nothing likewhat you had with the others, I just... lost my mind a little over the thought of losing you.”
I blink at him, rubbing the still-raw spot in my chest where the bonds once sat. “Well, I’m here. Not dead.”
“I know,” he says with a sad smile. “And no longer stuck with me, mangled bond or not.”
His words relight the wick of frustration all over again, and I have to fight not to snap at him.
“There’s something I need you to get your head around,” I say with a glare. “I was never stuck with you. The bond might have fast-tracked things, but it didn’t mean that I don’t want to be with you.” I prod him on one of his stupidly oversized biceps. “I like you, Torin, a lot. I’ve missed you. But I can’t handle it if you go silent and pull away whenever something happens.”
The temptation to tell him about how the bond was never real lingers in the back of my mind, but I shove it away.
He stares down at me for a long moment before running his hand through his still-damp blond hair, dislodging the knot of longer hair until it falls to his shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” he rasps. “I don’t think I said that already, but I am.”
His eyes lock with mine, and he dips his head down, surprising me by resting his forehead against mine for a moment.
Fuck it. Maybe it’s the party atmosphere bolstering me to not waste any more time, but I decide to throw caution to the wind. I wrap my hand around his thick neck, pulling him closer as I press my lips to his. Torin lets out a tortured groan as he takes charge of the kiss, his mouth opens and his tongue twines with mine, invading my mouth and sending tingles shooting down my neck and spine. He kisses me like he’s expressing all the words he hasn’t been able to say in the past three weeks.
And I take every last one of them. I match his intensity, pulling back only to nip and suck on his lower lip, which earns me another glorious moan, which rumbles through his chest. We continue like this as his hands roam down my back, cupping my arse, my hips, as though he’s trying to ingrain the feel of me into memory. I run my fingers through his hair, and he sucks in a breath, his rumbling chest growing louder until I can feel it vibrating right through me.
Huh, he likes me playing with his hair. And I think his bear does too. I didn’t think there was any space left between us, but somehow he pulls me even closer. Torin hefts me into his arms, and I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling his impressive bulge pressing against me. He—
Stops. Puts me down with another shuddering high and makes sure I’m steady on my feet before pulling back.
“Torin, what—”
“There’s something else I need to tell you,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut with pain written all over his face.
I’m about to respond when my eyes catch on the hand that’s still messing with his hair as he tugs at it.
“Torin,” I say his name slowly, before licking the taste of him off my lips. “Where are your hands?”
Chapter 11
Aster
After a few weeks of working as the crew’s medic, it now feels like I know every member of the crew by name and by sight, and I’ve also seen far more of their bodies than I’d ever have hoped for.
Today started with treating Kilter, a boar shifter who really should have a brain injury by now. It’s the third time I’ve treated a head injury for him, not surprising considering he likes to use his head to smash into things a lot. For some reason, he’s taken it upon himself to teach me Drakian, the language the rest of the crew speak. Every day over the past week, he’s come up here and started reading to me to try and teach me new words.
Too bad that he can’t focus on the words all that well, so he ends up passing the book over to me to stare uncomprehendingly at the words I definitely cannot read. When he does actually manage to read me any of it, the book has turned out to be so damn dirty I find myself blushing wildly while he grins and winks at me.
I’m still clearing up from my last visitor and am waiting to finish brewing a special little something for Reva that I’ve spent the past couple of days working on. But it seems like my moment of quiet can’t last any longer.
Silvertooth appears in the doorway to the room I’ve been using as a med bay, clutching an armful of drinks and bringing with him a handful of crew members. “Mr Medbay, in the flesh.”
Dagger smacks him around the back of his head. “That’s not his name, and after you made him look at your arsehole earlier, you should be calling him darling.”
