My grip tightens involuntarily. “Not when I’m with you.”
Her eyes flash with something wild and wonderful. Then she’s pulling me back down, sealing whatever I might have said with another kiss.
One I’d tear apart worlds to protect.
Chapter 31
Aspen
The moment our lips meet again, I come undone.
Not like the berserker, not losing myself to rage. This is different. Deliberate. A choice I'm finally brave enough to make.
Her hands slip beneath my shirt, fingertips tracing fire across my skin. Through our bond, I feel her raw need wrapping around me like a current I don't want to escape. The careful distance I've been maintaining dissolves like ice in sunlight.
I should pull back. Should think this through.
Instead, I press her closer, letting instinct win.
My pulse hammers in my ears, indistinguishable from the magic crackling between us. It feels dangerous. It feels right. I want to run from the intensity. I want to drown in it until I forget why I was ever afraid.
"Aspen." Just my name, breathed against my mouth. But it sounds like absolution.
I pull back enough to see her face—pupils blown wide, lips parted, flush spreading across her cheeks. Beautiful in a way that aches, that breaks something open inside me I didn't know was sealed shut.
For the first time, I stop fighting what I want.
"You're sure?" My voice doesn't sound like mine.
She reaches for the hem of my shirt, fingers brushing bare skin. "I've never been more sure of anything."
The bond flares so bright it's almost painful. Emotions cascade through me—hers, mine, impossible to separate. Trust. Want. A bone-deep certainty that shatters my last defenses.
She peels my shirt away like she's unwrapping something precious. The way she looks at me, like she sees past the monster I'm terrified of becoming, like she knows something about me I've forgotten, steals my breath.
I hate how vulnerable it makes me feel. I need it more than air.
When I kiss her again, it's softer. Deeper. My hands find her waist, slipping beneath her shirt to trace warm skin. She shivers, and the sensation shoots straight through our connection, making me force myself to slow down.
"Not here," I murmur against her lips. "Not against a bookshelf."
A smirk tugs at her lips. "Too undignified?"
"You deserve better than hard wood and dust." The double meaning hits me a second too late.
She laughs, soft and bright, and something frozen in my chest cracks open. Melts.
"There are worse things," she teases, but takes my hand, letting me lead her deeper into the library to an alcove where cushions and rugs create a sanctuary.
Her shadows flow around us as we move, creating a barrier between us and the world beyond. Mouse takes position at the entrance, violet eyes watchful and protective.
The bond flickers with sudden uncertainty, panic from one of us, maybe both, then settles into something deeper. More primal.
Mouse turns away. The shadows thicken.
Kaia pulls me down, and I follow. We're a tangle of limbs and quiet laughter. No rush this time. Only certainty.
I brush her hair back, trying to memorize everything, the curve of her cheekbone, the scatter of freckles across her nose, the exact shade of violet in her eyes.
