“Kai gave me one,” she muttered, twisting the hem of his shirt in her fingers. “Did I—did we?—?”
Jaxon’s grin widened. “Itried to put you to bed fully clothed,” he said. “You were the one who insisted on making yourself comfortable. I talked you into the shirt—you fell asleep as soon as I tucked you in.”
"And that was all?" she pressed, watching his expression. If he was lying, he gave no sign of it—just that same easy grin, full of amused fondness.
"That was all," he echoed. "The first time I have you again won’t be a night you can’t remember. You’ll have to take advantage of me sober, Starling.”
“Gods,” Araya groaned, heat flooding her cheeks. She buried her face in her hands. “I’msosorry?—”
“Stop apologizing,” Jaxon said. His bare feet padded across the floor, circling the trunk between them. His hand touched her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. “I meant what I told you lastnight, Araya. I was always coming back for you. But I understand how you must have felt when I left.”
And just like that, Araya’s heart cracked open.
“Don’t look at me like I’m saving you,” Jaxon laughed, shaking his head. “This isn’t some noble sacrifice. I am obviously getting the better end of the deal. Now I have one of the best adepts on the Arcanum’s roster at my disposal.”
Araya lobbed the parchment ball at him. “I spend all day imbuing amulets.”
“You—” He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers like he used to when they had to sneak around in the dark corners of the Aetherium. “Are wasted on grunt work. It’s a crime to let your talent rot. I won’t make that mistake.”
Her heart stuttered as she met his gaze, their breath tangling in the space between them. “You’re really going to let me work?” she asked, disbelief and fragile hope warring in her chest. “Bonded fae females don’t get to work?—”
“Starling,” Jaxon murmured, his smile wicked. “I’m going to insist. Do you have any idea how many times I requested to have you transferred to my division? And those ridiculous old men refused every single time.”
“Because you work on fae curses,” she whispered. “No one over a third is supposed to touch them. I’m not supposed to?—”
“Well, now I make the rules,” Jaxon murmured with a low chuckle. “And I have no intention of wasting you locked up in some workshop. Or in my bedroom—though, just to be clear, I want you there, too.”
Her heart gave a sharp, uneven thump as his hands settled on her waist, sliding down to her hips. His fingers brushed her bare skin where the shirt ended, sending sparks up her spine.
“They won’t let me work on fae curses,” she whispered. “There are laws.”
Jaxon laughed softly, indulgently. “Starling,” he said, his lipsbrushing hers, “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten—but I’m the High Magister’s son.”
The words dripped with privilege and arrogance—but Jaxon was one of the few people who might actually have the power to back them up.
He stayed perfectly still as she ran her fingers over the rough stubble that dusted his jaw, tracing his features with a featherlight touch. Finally she wound them into his dark waves, her heart stuttering as she pressed her lips to his.
Jaxon kissed like he owned her. Lips, teeth, and tongue—they all worked to coax gasps and moans from her, his fingers leaving a trail of heat as they swept over her skin. It may have been years since they touched each other, but their bodies remembered. He groaned into her mouth when his hands slipped up, finding her bare under his shirt.
“Gods, Starling,” he growled. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
“I think I have an idea.” She nipped at his lip with one of her sharp canines, careful not to break the skin as she slid her hand between them to trace the hardness pressing against her hip. She squeezed, his startled curse like music to her ears.
Jaxon swept her off her feet, her shriek of laughter echoing through the cluttered room. He crossed to the bedroom in a few quick strides, knocking over more than one pile of books in his haste to kick the bedroom door open. She actuallybouncedon the absurdly soft bed when he dropped her onto it, but Araya didn’t get the chance to giggle before he was yanking the shirt over her head.
Araya gasped, arching into his mouth as Jaxon captured the peak of her breast. She tugged at his clothes, urging him without words to get them off.
“My greedy Starling,” he said, his lips curling into a smile against her skin. “You were always mine—I just needed you to see it.”
The words should have unsettled her. But the way he said them—the certainty, the warmth—made them feel like a promise instead of a snare. Maybe this was just what safety felt like.
Araya ran her fingers over his chest, tracing the lean contours of his muscles with her nails until his breath hitched, a shudder running through him. By the time hefinallypressed against her entrance, his voice had dropped to a growl, low and rough with want.
"Tell me, Starling," he coaxed, his lips ghosting over hers. "Tell me you're mine."
“Jaxon—” Araya swallowed, the words catching in her throat as his fingers flexed against her hips. But when his thumb brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves between her thighs, her resolve melted into heat and hunger.
“I want tohearyou say it, Starling,” he laughed as she nodded frantically, but it came out more like a groan as she arched against him.
