The way she touched it—reverent, curious, gentle—made him reconsider.
“You’ve survived so much,” she murmured, her hand sliding across his chest to find another scar. “Every one of these is a story.”
“Mostly stories of stupidity and pain.”
“Stories of strength.” Her eyes met his, and the conviction in them made his chest ache. “Of someone who refused to die.”
He caught her hand before she could explore further, pressing it flat against his heart. She had to feel it pounding—had to know what she was doing to him.
“Ariella. I—” He fought for words, fought against the beast that was clawing at his control. “I am not human. I don’t take these things lightly. The more I touch you, the more my beast will consider you mine. Do you understand?”
Her breath hitched. “Yours?”
“My mate.” The words came out raw, scraping against his throat. “I’ve been fighting it since the first moment I scented you. But if you invite me into that water with you, I don’t know if I’ll be able to fight anymore.”
He expected her to pull away. Instead, she leaned up and pressed her lips to the center of his chest, right over his thundering heart.
“Good,” she whispered against his skin. “Stop fighting.”
She turned away, shedding her diving suit with a shyness that made his heart clench, then slipped into the pool, her body disappearing inch by inch beneath the luminous surface. When she finally turned to face him, submerged to her shoulders with her dark hair floating around her like seaweed, he forgot how to breathe.
She was beautiful. Ethereal. The stars speckled across her skin blazed bright against the water’s glow, and he could see more of them now—a constellation of light scattered across her ribs, her hips, the delicate curves that the water couldn’t quite hide.
“Are you coming in?” Her voice was soft, but he could hear the nervous tremor beneath it. “Or are you just going to stare?”
“I’m enjoying the view.”
She made a sound that might have been a laugh, but it broke halfway through into something more vulnerable. “No one’s ever looked at me like that before.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re hungry.” She ducked her head, her hair falling to curtain her face. “Like I’m something you want, instead of something you want to study.”
The pain in her words was like a blade between his ribs.
He shed the rest of his clothes without ceremony and descended into the pool with quick, purposeful strides. The water rose to his waist—he was too tall for it to cover much more—and the contrast of the cool liquid against his overheated skin made him shudder.
But not as much as the look on her face when she finally lifted her head.
She was staring at his body with an expression of naked want that made his beast howl in triumph. Her gaze traced the breadth of his shoulders, the planes of his chest, the ridged muscle of his abdomen where the water lapped just above his hips. Her skin was blazing now—colors swirling across her skin in patterns he was beginning to understand meant desire.
“Come here,” he said, and the words came out as a growl.
She moved through the water like she was born to it—which she was, he reminded himself. This was her element, and the grace of her movements made his mouth go dry. When she reached him, she stopped just inches away, close enough to touch but not quite touching, her silver-flecked eyes searching his face.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted, and the vulnerability in her voice made his chest ache. “I’ve never… With the experiments, and my father’s research?—”
He kissed her.
It wasn’t gentle. He’d meant it to be. He’d promised himself he’d be careful, that he would treat her like the precious thing she was. But the moment his lips met hers, his beast surged forward, and gentleness became an impossible dream.
She gasped into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound, his tongue sweeping past her lips to taste the sweetness within. His hands found her waist beneath the water, pulling her against him until her body was flush with his, and the sensation of her bare skin against his sent shockwaves of pleasure through his entire being.
Soft. Warm. Glowing.Mine.
When he finally pulled back, they were both breathing hard. Her skin was blazing so brightly that it cast shadows on the cavern walls, and her lips were swollen from his kisses, begging to be claimed again.
“Valrek,” she breathed. Just his name, nothing more, but the way she said it—reverent and desperate and wanting—nearly broke him.
