And yet.
What if this need was not a weakness? What if loving her did not destroy, but restored?
She accepted me. Even when I failed to understand her world. Even when I snarled at machines that hum. She let me learn. Not once had she asked me to change. Adapt, yes, but not change.
Maybe this was not the loss of power. Of freedom. Maybe this was the source of it.
I thought of Cassian, of betrayal, of the dagger that pinned me to centuries of silence. The memory made me flinch half a step back.
But Nadia is not Cassian or the Sovereign Court. She doesn’t want my power or what I can do for her. She only wants me. I think. I hope.
Her breathing was steady. She shifted in her sleep, murmuring something I couldn’t catch.
I stood there, caught between hunger and reverence.
If I love her, I’ll never survive losing her. If I let her in, if I allow this, and she leaves, it will undo me. It’s not just the bond. It’s her.
I swallowed, the sound loud in the quiet.
I would burn the world if she left. And that is not love. That is ruin.
Slowly, I stepped back. I didn’t cross the threshold. Didn’t wake her.
My hand stayed pressed to the frame until the wood cracked under my grip.
I turned from the doorway, chest heavy, pulse drumming.
The mansion slept. Moonlight cut across the floorboards and made everything too sharp. I lay still and watched the ceiling as if it might offer instructions. It did not.
The bond grasped at my chest. Not pain. Something older. Primal. It pulled at me like a hand on a sleeve until I could no longer ignore it, and I knew she was awake. I felt her presence arrive before I heard her outside my door. It was warmth at the edge of the room, a pull that made every molecule of me lean in.
The door creaked. A sliver of hall light outlined her silhouette. She walked in like a small apology and a declaration at once. She was still in my shirt. It hung loose on her shoulder. Messy hair. Vulnerable posture. Determined.
She whispered, low and raw, “Can you pretend you want me… really wantme…just for tonight?”
I wanted to tell her there was no pretending, but my entire body answered before my mouth did. Every ragged part of me wanted her. She came closer. Her hand found my sternum. I felt her fingers press through centuries of habit and armor. When she kissed me, whatever pretense I had left fractured.
I rose for her like a tide. There was no hurry in it. My hands were careful, as if she was a deity made real before me. I pressed her back into the mattress as if keeping her there would anchor both of us. She fit under me with a trust that made something in me break open.
I let my mouth move over her, a mapping, a catalog of soft and honest things. Each touch was a quiet vow. I told her what I wanted without saying it all at once.
“Tell me what you need,” I murmured.
“Look at me while you touch me,” she whispered. The order was small and brave, and it made me laugh against her collarbone.
She unabashedly grazed her finger down the hard length of me as I hovered over her, sending need through every cell in my body unlike anything I had known. Clothes. They had to go. I removed my shirt, tossing it aside, and she ran her hands over my chest like she was memorizing every inch. I ran my hands up her bare thighs until I reached the hem of her shirt and lifted it over her head. Her body was going to be the end of me. I needed to ravish every inch. “You undo every piece of control I have.”
I pressed my lips to hers with a fervor that took her by surprise, yet she matched my intensity, sucking and nibbling on my lower lip. My hands roamed over the smooth skin of her back, tracing the delicate lines of her spine as I pulled her closer to me. One hand slipped under her panties and palmed her wetness, feeling the heat radiating off her. She moaned into my mouth, urging me on as I continued to explore every inch of her neck with my mouth and teeth. I slipped her panties from her body, and she made quick work of my trousers and underwear.
“Are you sure this is what you want, Nadia?”
She pulled me closer. “I want you. All of you. I am not scared.”
I kissed down her body. Slowly. Savoring.
The scent of her skin filled my head. It was warmth and trust. Want rose fast and sharp. I lowered myself between her thighs, letting my hands guide her open with care. I felt the small tremor that moved through her. Not fear. Invitation.
I leaned down. Her inner thigh was warm under my lips. I let my tongue trace along her opening, and the arousal I tasted there sent a bolt of desire so deep through me that I could not tame it.
