His thumb brushed my jaw, tender for half a second?—
Then he tilted my head, angled his mouth over mine again?—
And kissed me like he wanted to claim every thought I’d ever had.
My knees buckled. He held me up effortlessly.
Heat flared with every sweep of his tongue against mine until I felt like I would combust. His chest trembled against me, his breathing harsh, furious, and terrified.
When he finally tore his mouth away, he pressed his forehead to mine, panting.
“Just know that nothing has changed if he comes for you,” his voice was like molten steel. “I will burn the Ancestors themselves to ashes.”
My whole body shivered.
He cupped my face with both hands, thumbs brushing my lips as if memorizing the bruise he’d left there. “I’m not gentle, I’m not calm. I’m not rational. I’mscared, Nexi. I’m so fuckingscared.”
“Okay, not to interrupt Nathan’s emotional crisis meltdown?—”
“—but the rest of us are dying too!”
Before I could respond, Zeke approached me like a winter storm on legs, eyes fixed on me with a hunger I felt deep in my spine. “Nathan got to go first,” voice low and rough. “But don’t think for a second I’m going without touching you myself for a second longer.”
Nathan snorted. “Nathan has been first right from the start—in everything.” He waggled his brow obnoxiously.
I smiled softly just as Zeke cupped my jaw with one hand—cool, steady, grounding–and kissed me with precision that made my pulse stutter.
But the moment my fingers slid into his hair, he broke—just a little—pressing his forehead to mine. “You scare me,” he murmured. “Please don’t let this shit take you from us.” His thumb brushed my lower lip right where Nathan’s bruise was, possessive and soft at once. “Next time you dream, I want to be there.”
Jet stepped forward next, quiet but burning behind the eyes. He touched my cheek with his massive hand, as if asking permission.
I nodded, eyes never leaving his.
He picked me up then kissed me like a secret he’d been waiting to confess—slow, deep, needing. His breath trembled against my mouth.
When he pulled back, he didn’t look away. “I’m not losing you,” he growled. “Not to a prophecy. Not to a past life. Not to him.”
My chest tightened. “Jet?—”
He lowered me to my feet. “I’ll do whatever it takes. That you can count on.”
Zane didn’t ask. He never did.
He swooped in, grabbed my waist, and dipped me like an overdramatic hero in a romance novel—except his kiss was nothing like those simpering heroes.
It was messy.
Hungry.
Possessive. A little reckless.
And so very Zane.
He pulled me upright and rested his forehead on mine. “I love you. Don’t go Lilibetting off into danger without me.”
I laughed, but then stopped when I noticed that my men had fallen silent.
The reason for that was still sitting in the shadows, watching me with those deep, unreadable eyes.
