A small furrow appeared between his brows. “Where’s Dani?”
“Spending the night in the village.” She kept her voice light, casual, as if her heart wasn’t already beginning to race. “Sarah’s mother offered to have her over. Apparently they’re planning to stay up late and make leaf crowns for the fall festival.”
The furrow deepened. “I was going to show her how to identify cloudmoss today. She’s been asking about it all week.”
“You can show her tomorrow.” She crossed over to him and placed her hand against his chest. Beneath her palm, she couldfeel the steady rhythm of his heart. “I thought you might enjoy having the den to ourselves tonight.”
She watched understanding dawn in his eyes. The green brightened, then began to glow in the way that always made her breath catch. A low rumble built in his chest, more felt than heard.
“Did you, now?”
“I did.”
His hands came up to span her waist, the tips of his fingers nearly meeting at her spine. She’d gotten used to the size of him, the way he dwarfed her without ever making her feel small, but it still sent a shiver of awareness through her when he touched her like this.
“And what did you have in mind?” His voice had dropped to that register that made her toes curl. “Because I have… suggestions.”
She laughed, pressing her hands flat against his chest before he could pull her closer. “Actually, I had something specific planned.”
The glow in his eyes flickered with curiosity. “Oh?”
Now or never.
She took a breath. “I want to meet your beast.”
He went very still.
The rumble in his chest cut off abruptly, and for a long moment he simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then he said carefully, “You have met my beast. Many times.”
“I’ve caught glimpses.” She held his gaze, refusing to look away. “When you’re hunting and don’t realize I’m watching. When we’re together and you let go just enough for me to see him behind your eyes.” She reached up to trace the line of his jaw, feeling the muscle flex beneath her fingertips. “But you always hold back. You always keep him leashed.”
“For good reason.” His voice was rougher now, strained. “The beast is… He’s not gentle, Jessa. He’s not safe.”
“I know.”
“He wants things. He feels things more intensely than I do in this form.” His hands tightened at her waist, almost convulsively. “When I let him out I don’t always think clearly. I react. I need.”
“I know.” She rose on her toes, pressing a soft kiss to his chin. “And I want to know that part of you too. All of you, Tarek. Not just the pieces you think are acceptable.”
A shudder ran through him. She could feel it, the way his control trembled beneath the force of her words. Something shifted behind his eyes, his beast stirring, awakened by the promise of finally being seen.
“Are you certain?” The words were barely human, more growl than speech. “Once I let him out, I won’t be able to?—”
“I’m certain.” She stepped back, putting space between them even as every instinct screamed for her to move closer. “I’m sure.”
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then he closed his eyes and changed.
It wasn’t dramatic—no flash of light, no howl of pain. Just a subtle shifting, a deepening of the shadows that already clung to his form. When his eyes opened again, they blazed with verdant fire, bright enough to cast green-tinted shadows across the walls. His canines had lengthened, jutting past his lower lip in wicked points. The muscles beneath his furred skin rippled and tensed, coiled power barely contained.
He was magnificent.
And terrifying.
And hers.
Her heart stuttered as he took a step towards her, his movements suddenly fluid and predatory in a way they hadn’t been before. This was no longer the controlled, careful male who touched her like she was made of glass. This was the beast beneath—hungry, primal, utterly focused on her with an intensity that stole her breath.
