“Pack law,” he echoed, gripping her hand, expression growing serious. “I don’t know that I can change it. Julian’s managed to spin your visions, your powers, as just a gift of the mating bond, an extension of my own power. I don’t know that I could make it safe for you to stay here.”
“You mean…” her heart stuttered, “you mean safe for me to practice witchcraft?”
He nodded, swallowing hard. “It’s who you are, Layla. And it saved us. All of us. I’m just sorry that I can’t make the pack see that. See what you’ve sacrificed for them.”
“Maybe,” she said, voice growing soft, “maybe in the future. We could introduce it slowly, show the pack it can be used for good—”
He moved, climbing onto the bed to sit next to her, letting her settle against his chest. The steady drumbeat of his heart calmed her. “I’m sorry, Layla. Some things run too deep. I’ve already turned this whole pack on its head once. I don’t think I can do it again.”
“I understand,” she said, her voice small as she traced the open edge of his shirt.
“You can leave,” he said, his voice tight, “I wouldn’t stop you. There’s a coven in Juneau. More still out east. You could find your people, learn from them—”
“My people are here,” she said fiercely, propping herself up on his chest to stare into his face. “I belong here. With you. I won’t leave.”
He released a breath, long and ragged, one hand cupping her cheek.
“We’re not finished fighting,” he said at last. “Leonid is a constant threat. Whoever it was controlling the hybrids…they could still be out there.”
“I know.”
“But I want to do this with you, Layla. Not around you. Not despite you. With you.”
She felt the smile before she felt herself make it. She reached for his hand where it cradled her face, impossibly warm.
“We’re going to make so many people angry,” she said.
“That’s always been my gift,” he said, deadpan, “I’d rather not do it alone.”
The laugh caught in her bruised ribs, but she didn’t mind the ache. She looked at his mouth. He saw her look and went very still.
“May I?” he asked.
The question threaded everything they’d just promised through its center. She let it sit a heartbeat, enjoying the absurd power of it, the honest want in his eyes, and the restraint that asked instead of taking.
“Yes,” she said.
He leaned in slowly, as if the air might break. When his lips touched hers, the kiss was gentle.
He drew back, forehead resting against hers, breath unsteady.
“Again,” she whispered, smiling.
He obeyed, leaning forward. His lips were urgent this time, hot and seeking. She matched his fire with the passion of her own, crawling to straddle him, hands braced on his muscular shoulders. With a low groan, he forced her mouth open, tilting her head to allow better access.
It was overwhelming. He was everywhere. Beneath her, surrounding her, the very air thick with his scent.
Her brain went foggy, her limbs loose and pliant. He, on the other hand, was all strength, all power. He surged forward, sitting up, hands dropping to grasp her waist.
She sucked in a sharp breath as his hips rocked upwards, growing hardness pushing against her core. The air grew hot and charged, the current between them swelling, the bond shining to life.
This wasn’t like last time. He wasn’t aggressive, insistent, or domineering. But there was no doubting his desire. Not when he carefully peeled her clothes from her, mindful of her hundred small hurts, his eyes raking over her naked skin like a man starved.
“Lie down,” he whispered, guiding her to her back. Her legs fell open, allowing him to kneel between them, his lips pressing soft kisses to her collarbone. Then her breast. Then lower.
She gasped as his lips found her inner thigh, stubble rough against the delicate skin. Breath ghosting over her core, he looked up at her, ice-blue eyes dark and stormy.
Then, he lapped his tongue through her folds, flattening it against her clit.
