His steps falter for a moment.
I feel it—his breath catching against my temple, his fingers flexing where they hold me.
Damn it.
He doesn’t respond, but his body goes tighter. His pace is more careful. Like it cost him something not to respond.
And then—the bond stirs.
It’s subtle at first. A whisper at the edge of my mind. A pull low in my chest. Then it surges—pressing into me like a pulse that isn’t mine.
I tense.
Thane tenses; I feel it in the stillness of his hold, the way his hand locks around me.
We freeze, the night itself holding its breath.
Then he exhales—slow, deliberate—like he’s just decided something. And instead of pulling away, he draws me closer.
A mistake.
Because the moment he does, the bond flares.
I suck in a breath—sharp, involuntary—as something deep and raw courses through me. It feels older. Heavier. Like every part of me that’s been locked down is suddenly burning awake.
My skin tingles. Not from contact with Thane, but from within. The bond hums between us, electric, alive, impossible to ignore.
Thane moves faster. His grip more deliberate now—like he’s afraid of what happens if he holds on too tight. Or lets go.
Neither of us speak.
But the silence? It’s not empty. It’s thick with everything we’re not saying. And everything we suddenly can’t pretend not to feel.
THANE
She leans into me like she doesn’t know what it costs me to hold her like this. And I don’t know how to put her down without shattering something in both of us.
Her voice comes out softly, almost dreamlike. “You always catch me.”
I nearly trip over my own feet.
How does she do this? Just four words completely undo me.
I steady myself—I will not drop her.
Then a sensation like a butterfly moving in my chest. But thequiet fluttering becomes a surge of heat and power drumming in my chest.
I stiffen.
It’s like the bond heard her words and is responding for me.
I readjust my grip—stupid, irrational—like holding her tighter might quiet the bond. Instead, the drumming gets louder and it’s like I feel her racing heart next to mine.
My grip on Amara reflexively tightens. I’m losing control of my body. I need to get her to bed and put her down—put space between our bodies. But I can’t leave her like this.
My quarters. They’re closer anyway.
I pick up pace, begging for the bond to stop. Because if she keeps saying things like that, and I keep feeling this much, I won’t be able to keep her safe.
