Shewantedhim. She wanted totouchhim.
He saw it in the way her hands faltered but didn’t pull away. In the way her lips parted, her gaze flickering down to his mouth before she snapped it away, heat rising in her cheeks.
She was fighting the call of his dragon, the magic of bonded mates, of dragonfire.
But there was no fightingthis.Not when his magic had already invaded her body, roused her passions, made herwant.
He shifted, just slightly, so his face was closer to hers. Close enough that he could feel her breath, could watch the way her throat worked as she swallowed hard. Her breast brushed against his shoulder, and she gasped. Her voice was barely a whisper. “What are you doing to me?”
Vector didn’t answer. He lifted his bound hands as much as he could, the chains clinking softly, and dragged his knuckles over the silky skin of her cheek. Her neck.
A small sound escaped her lips, something between a breath and a sigh. She leaned into his touch.
His dragongrowled in triumph.
His voice was a low rasp when he finally spoke.
“You already know.”
She was trembling.
She should have run. Should have resisted. Should have saved herself.
But shedidn’t.
The magic between them shimmered, pulsing like a heartbeat, dark red tendrils weaving through the space separating them, sinking into her flesh, her soul.
She washis.
And she had no idea.
A slow, dangerous satisfaction curled through him. The beast inside him—raging, desperate—recognizedher. Had chosen her. And there was no turning back.
Not for him.
Not forher.
Vector moved—just a fraction, just enough that his body loomed over hers, enough that he could feel her warmth, the hesitant brush of her breath against his chest.
He lifted his chained hands again, fighting the pull of elven magic and grazed his knuckles from her wrists moving up the delicate line of her arm.
She shivered.
Her pupils dilated, her lips parting. Her body swayed again, a breath, a whisper, an unconscious betrayal of the desire she was trying so hard to ignore.
“Vector…” His name was barely a sound, a hushed, broken thing.
Gods, he was unraveling.
He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her fight this.
Because herlifedepended on it. He couldn’t protect her if she wasn’t his.
If she didn’t accept him, if she didn’t let this bond take hold, he would shatter. The dragon’s choice was final. No other female would ever soothe the madness inside him. No other touch would keep him grounded.
Without her, he would burn alive from the inside out.
He leaned in, just enough to skim the sharp edge of his jaw against her cheek, inhaling the scent of her—soft and wild, a storm rolling over warm earth.
