"I've wanted this," I admit, the words pulled from somewhere I keep locked away. "Wanted you. Since the first time I felt you through the bond."
Her eyes soften as she traces my jawline. "Show me."
Those two words undo me completely.
I bend to kiss her neck, her collarbone, the hollow of her throat. Her shirt disappears. Mine follows. The first press of skin against skin nearly stops my heart. The bond surges, magic crackling between us like lightning gathering strength.
"Tell me what you need," I whisper against her skin.
"You," she says without hesitation. "Just you."
I don't deserve that kind of certainty. That kind of trust.
Our remaining clothes vanish beneath trembling hands. We're not graceful—elbows bump, laughter spills, clothes tangle. But none of that matters. What matters is the way she arches when I find a sensitive spot. The small sounds she makes when I kiss along her inner thigh. The way her shadows dance with her pleasure.
Her scent surrounds me—storm and salt and sweetness. Her taste on my tongue. The heat of her skin beneath my hands.
And then—panic. The berserker stirs, feral and possessive. I freeze.
"Aspen?" Kaia's voice anchors me. Her hand on my cheek, steady and warm. "Stay with me."
"I don't want to hurt you," I grit out, fear rushing back like a tide. The berserker wants to claim, to mark, to possess.
She sits up, taking my face in her hands. "You won't."
"You can't know that."
"I can. I do." Her eyes hold mine, fearless. "I trust you, Aspen. I need you to trust yourself."
How can she ask that? Trust myself when everything in me is a battle between control and chaos?
But before I can respond, she kisses me—fierce and sure. The bond flares, steadier than before. The berserker snarls once, then settles. Recognizing something it can't fight. Something it doesn't want to.
She pulls me back to her, wrapping her legs around my hips. Our eyes lock, and something passes between us—understanding deeper than words.
"Stay with me," she whispers.
"I couldn't leave if I tried," I answer, the honesty scraping my throat raw.
Then I enter her, and the world falls away. There's only sensation. Only Kaia.
She arches, whispering my name like a vow. The bond flares in response, weaving around us like something alive. For the first time since the berserker awakened, I don't feel torn apart.
Actually, that's not true. I feel more fragmented than ever—torn between the need to claim and the fear of losing control, between surrendering to the bond and maintaining some piece of myself.
But as we move together, finding a rhythm as natural as breathing, something unexpected happens. The fragments don't fight each other anymore. They realign into something new. Something stronger.
Her hands map my back, tangle in my hair. My lips never leave her skin for long—tasting, memorizing, claiming.
The berserker inside me stirs, but not with rage. With fierce, protective devotion that coils low and goes still. As if it's finally found its purpose. As if it has nothing left to fight.
The magic between us pulses wild and erratic. Her shadows stretch and curl with her pleasure. Bob and Linda form protective circles. Mouse watches with ancient patience.
The bond between us flickers—and then blazes brighter than before, sending shockwaves through both of us.
"Open your eyes," I tell her when I feel her getting close, when I feel myself teetering on the edge. "Look at me."
She does, and the vulnerability I see nearly breaks me. No one has ever looked at me like this—like I'm her anchor, like I'm worthy of trust.
