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This isn’t how Mate Bonds work, I know that. I know all about blood and biology and scent, and this matches none of it.

I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except the way she’s looking up at me like I’m a dream come to life, and I’m touching her, and the only thing I want—the only thing that matters⁠—

Is kissing her.

So I do.

My lips find hers in a rush of heat. It isn’t gentle or sweet or soft. It probably isn’t the first kiss she deserves, but I’m running on pure instinct, and those instincts want to devour her.

And this…this is more than a kiss. It’s six centuries of starvation. It’s desperation. It’s finally realizing I’m home for the first time in my long life.

I’ve waited lifetimes for this, and I didn’t even know. Never even suspected.

Idril gasps into my mouth, and I swallow it greedily, desperate to coax more of those noises from her before this is done. That small intake of breath is mine. Every sound she makes will be mine, and I’ll spend the rest of my days cataloging each one until I know them better than I know my own name.

Her lips move against mine in a shy, uncertain way. They’re silk and sin and everything I’ve been denying myself for my entire immortal existence.

Angling my head, I deepen the kiss. When she makes another quiet little noise in the back of her throat, something desperate and needy shoots through me and settles low in my gut.

More. I need more.

I lick the seam of her lips, begging to be let in. She opens for me. There’s no hesitation, only a shy eagerness that makes me burn hotter.

I take my advantage, sweeping my tongue past her lips to taste her for the first time.

Oh, fuck.

I feel feral. Unhinged. She tastes like honey and spring, sweet and crisp and addictive.

I’ll never crave anyone else for the rest of my life.

Her hands clutch at my shirt, fisting the fabric like she’s holding on for dear life. The possessive makes me groan, a deep, primal sound I almost don’t recognize.

She whimpers and presses closer.

Then she’s falling and pulling me with her. I follow eagerly, determined not to allow a single inch of space between our bodies.

My tongue darts out and licks into her mouth again with slow, deliberate movements. I focus on exploring the shape of her, her taste, the way her entire body shivers when my tongue slides along hers.

Bracing my hands on either side of her, I’m careful to keep from crushing her delicate frame with my larger one.

Gentling the kiss, I lean back just far enough to suck her lower lip between my teeth.

Then I bite down.

Not hard, but enough to make her gasp.

“Caelan.”

My name on her lips is the single most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. I want to hear her say it for eternity.

“I know,” I whisper against her lips. “I know, love.”

I kiss her again, slower and deeper this time, relishing in every small whimper, every stuttered breath, every shiver that works through her body.

She wraps her legs around my hips like she’s done it a thousand times before, and I’m fucking done-for.

One hand drags gently up the curve of her back, following the line of her spine until I’m cradling her neck in my palm. She arches into me, moaning low in her throat—a breathy, perfect sound that makes my fangs throb.