Dangerous.
Mine.
If she chooses.
"Ava," I say, her name rough on my tongue. "There are truths that once spoken can't be forgotten."
"So tell me one," she challenges softly.
I step toward her. Three steps. Two. The bond pulls. Steady. Sure. She doesn't retreat. Just looks up at me, chin tilted, breath softening.
Her heartbeat is faster. Not from fear. Something else.
I kneel beside the bed so we're eye-level.
Her pupils widen.
My voice is almost a whisper. "You're not afraid of me."
"No," she says instantly. "Should I be?"
"No." The word leaves me like a sacred pledge. "Never. Not while I draw breath."
Her breath catches.
Heat sparks between us. She leans in a fraction. Just enough that I feel the warmth of her skin. Just enough that instinct roars, urging me to close the distance.
I brace a hand on the bed frame instead.
She notices. "You're holding yourself back."
"Yes."
"Why?"
There are a thousand answers I could give, but only one is true.
"Because if I touch you," I say softly, "I won't trust myself to stop."
Her eyes flare with something that makes my pulse stutter. Interest. Awareness.Want.
"Garruk…" she whispers.
I lean in—slow as the spring thaw—giving her time to pull away.
She doesn't. She breathes me in, lips parting, pulse fluttering at the base of her throat.
Our foreheads almost touch.
My voice rasps. "Ava. If you want me to stop, say it."
She swallows. Her breath brushes my mouth. My hands tremble where they grip wood.
Then…
A sharp crack outside, followed by the heavy thud of snow sliding from a branch. The cabin shifts slightly in wind.
Ava startles.
