I stare at him, my chest tight, my mind a whirlwind. The logical part of me wants to reject everything he’s saying—because it’s barmy, right? But my body doesn’t lie. I can feel the truth in my pulse, in the slow, steady rhythm that matches his. It’s as if my soul recognises the bond he speaks of even if my brain is still trying to catch up.
“That’s why I feel….” I trail off, unsure how to put it into words.
“Whole?” he offers gently.
I nod, my throat tight. “Yeah. And also completely out of my depth.”
Solan chuckles softly, the sound low and soothing. “You are not alone in this. It is new for me too.”
I huff a laugh, rubbing a hand over my face. “You make it sound like it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
“It is.” His answer is immediate, unwavering. “You are everything.”
The sincerity in his voice, the sheer weight of those words knock the breath out of me. My chest aches, my heart feels too big for my body, and the logical part of me—the part that should be screaming to slow down—falls silent. Instead, I lean into his touch, letting the moment wash over me.
In the back of my mind, I know this isn’t normal. This isn’t how humans behave, how relationships work. But the connection between us feels immutable, like it’s been etched into my very being. And with the way Solan’s fingers trace soothingpatterns over my skin and his golden eyes hold mine with such fierce devotion, I don’t have it in me to fight it. Not now. Maybe not ever.
He leans in, and my breath catches as his lips brush mine, a whisper of a touch that ignites every nerve in my body. It’s soft at first, almost tentative, but then he takes control, his mouth firm and claiming, kissing me senseless. His taste floods my senses, warm and electric, and I can’t stop the needy sound that escapes me as I shift against him. My body reacts instinctively, my hips rolling against his thick, solid thigh, desperate for friction.
Solan growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my lips as he grips my waist, holding me in place. His hair moves wildly, strands wrapping around my arms, my back, pulling me closer, as if he can’t bear even an inch of distance between us.
The tension builds, every touch, movement pushing me closer to the edge. I’m practically grinding against him, my body trembling with the need for release. I don’t even care how desperate I must look, how utterly undone I am beneath his touch.
But then he pulls back, breaking the kiss with a reluctance that mirrors my own. His breathing is ragged, his hair reaching for me even as he cups my face. “It is not time.”
“Not time?” I pant, my head spinning. “Are you serious right now?” Frustration and desire war within me, my body aching for him, for more.
His gaze softens, though his hair still moves restlessly, a testament to his struggle. “There is more to our bonding, and we must wait. You are not ready.”
I gape at him, confusion and need warring in my chest. “Not ready? I’m practically?—”
He cuts me off, brushing his thumb over my lower lip. “Jamie needs us. We need to be prepared.”
The mention of Jamie is like a bucket of ice water. The haze of desire recedes, and guilt crashes over me. He’s right. As much as I want this—want him—Jamie comes first. He always has.
I sag against Solan, nodding reluctantly. “You’re right.”
He kisses my forehead, his touch lingering, and whispers, “We will have our time.”
Fuck, I hope so. All this pent-up tension is building to heights I’ve never experienced before. It’s tempting to rub one out, but something is stopping me. Something more than me wanting to come with Solan. On him. In him. It doesn’t matter which as long as it’swithhim.
“We need to—” He stills, cutting himself off. I can barely register what happens next as he leaps off the mattress, dagger in hand, cemented in front of me and facing the doorway.
I scramble into action, my eyes locked on the dagger. Where was he hidingthat? I don’t have time to process before I lock my gaze on Solan’s strong back muscles bunching when a low, threatening growl tears out of him.
The sound wraps around me, turning me on while also setting my teeth on edge. Self-preservation wins as I glance at the door, tuning into the sound outside. The lilt of two creatures speaking in Glowranthian penetrates the air. One is deep, gravelly, and sounds seriously pissed off. The other is Harith’s. Solan’s reaction stops me from relaxing.
The desire to know what’s going on thrums through my veins, but I keep quiet. Solan’s not relaxed a fraction despite Harith’s being one of the voices, and tension vibrates from him, settling on my skin. Thank Christ I’m dressed. At least whatever happens next, my bare dick won’t be greeting them.
Talk about a boner killer.
Before I can even wonder if I should be hiding—my skin paint long since washed off in Harith’s private spring—thecrudely sawn door opens with a rush. Solan’s muscles bunch, and I hold my breath.
A body fills the doorway, large and… red. I startle, recognising the species as Pyronox, Solan’s species. The fuck? I edge forwards, planning to step to Solan’s side to get a better look, but his arm stops me, snapping out and barring my way.
Irritation slams into me even as my brain tries to rationalise his behaviour.
Words tear free from Solan in a tone and language I’ve not heard before. I can only assume they’re his mother tongue. The Pyronox’s large eyes, his form clear under his own leather kilt and the muscles of his uncovered chest on proud display, keep darting to me. While his curiosity is evident, disdain pushes to the forefront, practically rolling off him in waves.
