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“You’re my mate, Anja,” he says.
“What?”
“My mate.”
“I heard, I just don’t really know what that means or why it’s making you all growly and glowy.”
He takes a deep breath. “It means that you’re meant for me,” he says. “And I’m meant for you.”
I wait for a sense of panic to set in, but it doesn’t. Something about his words feelsright. “I’m your mate,” I murmur.
He nods. “I knew it the moment we met, but it took me a little while to work out what the feeling was.”
“What is the feeling?” I move closer to him as if drawn in by something I can’t see.
His eyes meet mine, and I see a burning passion in them that I haven’t seen before. “A need to be with you, to touch you, to protect you.”
My breathing hitches. This is different from our conversation before I drank the potion. But it also makes everything slot into place and gives me a real understanding of the way I’ve been feeling.
“That’s why my eyes were glowing and I was growling. Hearing you scream like that made me want to summon every shred of magic I could so I could tear the world apart and make it all better.”
I swallow hard. “There’s nothing to protect me from, I’m right here.”
“I know.”
I bite my bottom lip, drawing his gaze right to it.
“You shouldn’t do that,” he murmurs, his voice low and inviting.
“Why not?” I resist the urge to repeat the action, though it’s harder than I expect it to be.
“Because I will have to kiss you if you continue.”
“Why would that be bad? We’ve already kissed. Several times,” I point out.
“This is different,” he says.
“So we can’t do this?” I lean forward and briefly press my lips against his, pulling back ever so slightly to wait for how he’ll respond.
He reaches forward and pulls me to him, crushing his lips against mine with barely restrained passion.
I press myself against him, barely aware of the classroom around us, or the lingering effects of my dream. None of it matters, the only thing I’m aware of is how good it feels to have Cethin’s lips against mine.
His hand rests on my lower back, pulling me even tighter to him. I smooth my fingers over his shirt, wanting to feel his skin more than I ever have before.
He pulls back. “We should stop.”
“Why?” I murmur. “If we want this, then why stop?”
He groans. “Anja...”
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are. But we shouldn’t. We’re in the middle of a classroom.”
“No one knows we’re here. And we’ll already get in trouble if they find us here,” I point out, my fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt as I do.
“No, we can’t.” The way he says the words makes it seem as if it’s paining him too. “You’ve only just found out that you’re my mate, and your dream. Don’t ask me to do this.”
