But still, I feel a bit like I’m playing dress-up compared to Kael’s royal guard battle couture.
I tug my shirt down, self-conscious. “Kinda wish I had a gun.”
Kael glances at me, amusement glittering in his eyes. “You’d shoot your foot.”
“I would not.” I pause. “Okay, yeah. I would.”
“I will protect your feet,” he says solemnly.
I snort. “My hero.”
But the next moment happens so fast, I barely register it until I’m pinned.
Kael steps forwards, crowding into my space, his armour clinking softly as he backs me into the nearest wall. His large hands find my waist, gripping with just enough force to make my breath stutter. Then, in one smooth motion, he lifts me—just hauls me up the wall like I weigh nothing—and my thighs grip around his hips instinctively, our faces level now, our chests brushing with every breath.
“Kael—”
He kisses me.
No warning. No hesitation. Just raw, molten heat crashing into me.
It’s not soft. It’s not sweet. It’s possessive and consuming and so fucking intense that for a second, I forget where we are or what’s coming. His mouth moves against mine like he’s memorising me—like this kiss is the anchor before we dive headfirst into something that could kill us.
His hands grip tighter, pulling me impossibly closer, like he’s trying to fuse us together. My fingers find the edges of his armour and clutch tight, and he groans into my mouth like I’ve hit some pressure point that unravels him.
Every nerve ending in my body lights up like a star gone supernova.
I don’t remember closing my eyes, but when I open them, his are already on me—glowing faintly, his nostrils flaring, his bioluminescent markings pulsing in rhythm with the bond thrumming between us.
“That,” I whisper, breathless, my lips still brushing his, “was not from a Mills & Boon novel.” For real, I don’t recall any books from Mum’s collection being cock-dripping levels of hot like this.
Kael’s smile is slow, wicked. “Good.” And then he lowers me gently to the ground—though his fingers linger just a moment longer as he reaches my butt and rubs his fingers against my crease. “Let’s go save them,” he says.
And damn it, I’d follow him anywhere. Even to a place I have no desire to visit, let alone to somewhere that might not actually exist. But as he grips my hand and tugs lightly, I follow willingly, trying to ignore my hardening cock.
Where he goes, I go.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
We’re just aboutto reach the gate that separates our community compound from the main HQ outpost—the one where Varek and Henny are waiting—when I feel it. A shift. A crack in the air that doesn’t belong.
I stop short. Kael halts beside me, his head turning towards me in quiet question.
“What is it?”His voice brushes through my mind, even and low.
“It’s too quiet,”I send back, my mental voice less certain.
I look ahead. The gate that leads to the main courtyard should be open. It’s never closed during daylight hours. But now it is—shut tight with the thick security glass that’s reinforced against everything from the elements to minor explosions. And behind it, partially obscured, stands a Stirgule.
The glow of his green skin casts an eerie reflection on the glass. He’s armed. Intent clear.
Kael’s posture shifts immediately, weight centring. I feel his readiness ripple through the bond like a silent hum.
A sound scrapes behind us, and I turn, stomach clenching.
Zeyv.
