Varyth’s chest rose and fell with breaths he was struggling to control. “Why?” The single word held a weight I couldn’t quite decipher.
“Because he was hurt.” I didn’t dare to even blink. “And she was going to kill him.”
“So, you thought that you would sacrifice yourself for him? That your life was worth risking for his?” His eyes searched mine, looking for regret, perhaps, or fear. But I offered neither. Only the truth.
“I wasn’t thinking about worth. I was thinking about what was right.”
“What was right,” he repeated, the words hollow. “And did it occur to you what your death would do to those who care about you? What it would do to—” He cut off again, his jaw clenching so tight I could see the muscle jump beneath his skin.
I stared at him. This wasn’t just anger. This was deeper; it reached beyond mere frustration or authority challenged.
“I didn’t die.” I didn’t raise my voice. “I’m right here.”
“But you could have.” The words tore from him, making the air tremble. The paintings on the walls shuddered, and I swore the floor beneath us vibrated with his fury.
His hands left the door, one gripping my arm, the other tangling in my hair, desperate, as if he needed to know that I was solid, that I was real.
“You could have died,” he repeated. “You didn’t even consider what that would?—”
He crumbled. The walls, the rigid control he maintained over every aspect of himself all of it was falling apart. It was like watching a fortress collapse stone by stone, the foundation shaking beneath a force too powerful to contain.
“Varyth, I’m?—”
He didn’t let me finish.
His hand tightened in my hair, tilting my head back as his mouth crashed down onto mine with devastating force. The kiss was consuming. A storm breaking after too long held at bay. Hislips claimed mine with a ferocity that stole my breath, his body pressing me against the wall.
For a heartbeat, I froze, caught in the shock of his sudden move. But then, I ignited, a flame that had been smouldering since the first time he’d touched me.
I kissed him back.
My hands flew to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer even though there was nowhere left for him to go. Varyth made a sound against my mouth—half growl, half groan—my response shattering the last of his restraint. His hand slid from my arm to my waist, fingers splaying across my lower back.
The hand in my hair tightened, angling my head to deepen the kiss. His tongue swept against the seam of my lips, demanding entry, and I opened for him without hesitation.
The taste of him was intoxicating, dark and rich and addictive. I moaned as his tongue slid against mine, the sound swallowed by his mouth. The hand at my waist slid lower, gripping my hip with bruising intensity, pulling me against him, against every hard line of his body.
Varyth growled, the sound vibrating through me. His teeth dragged over my lip.
“Isara,” he breathed against my lips.
My hands moved instinctively, sliding up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more. His lips left mine, trailing down my jaw to my throat, his mouth hot and demanding against the sensitive skin of my neck.
“Do you realise,” he murmured against my throat. “What you do to me?”
His teeth nipped at my skin, sharp enough to make my fingers fist in his hair, earning another growl from deep in his chest.
“I was out of my mind.” His words were punctuated by kisses that burned against my skin. “The thought of you in danger?—”
He pulled back enough to look at me, his eyes molten, chest heaving.
“Never do that again,” he growled. “Never put yourself in danger like that.”
Before I could respond, his mouth found mine again, and Varyth’s hand slid from my hip to the back of my thigh.
His hips rocked forward, and Varyth groaned in my mouth as the hard length of him ground against me. Every touch, every kiss, every press of his body was wildfire, consuming everything in its path.
“Do you understand now?” His voice was a rough caress against my lips. “Why I can’t bear the thought of you in danger?”
