He had me wrapped in his arms, breath hot against my neck. The bond was humming so intensely under my skin I didn’t know where my heartbeat ended and his began.
But then he stilled. Completely.
“S-Savla?” I whispered, trying to pull away so I could look at him.
His arms tightened—not to restrain, but to steady. “Don’t move.”
There was a sound in his voice I hadn’t heard before. A reverent sort of desperation. Like he was fighting something and losing on purpose.
My breath hitched. “What’s happening?”
His lips brushed the side of my neck—soft, trembling—and I felt him inhale, long and shuddering, as if memorizing my scent.
“The bond,” he murmured. “It’s… calling to me.”
I swallowed hard. “To do what?”
He didn’t answer right away. His hands slid up my arms, slow and warm, tracing the line of my shoulders as if choosing the exact place to touch me. His breath grew uneven and my pussy clenched hard around the scant inches of his cock that were inside me.
Then, in a voice barely more than a growl against my skin, he said, “To claim what’s mine.”
Chapter 40
Hanna
Heat jolted through me so fiercely I almost gasped. Savla pressed me closer, his chest plastered against my breasts. His lips trailed from my neck to my shoulder, each kiss slower, deeper, more intense. I shivered, anticipation sharp as lightning beneath my skin.
“Savla…”
“You can stop me,” he whispered. “Tell me no.”
But every nerve in my body was already leaning into him. I didn’t want to stop him. I wanted the mark. I wantedhim.
“I won’t,” I whispered back.
His breath caught. Just once. Then he broke.
His mouth closed over the curve of my shoulder—firm, hot, claiming—and his fangs pressed into my skin. Not enough to wound. Enough to burn. Enough to brand.
The magick hit instantly.Thiswas what it had been waiting for. A rush of heat, light and power so strong my vision blurred. My knees weakened and his arm locked around my waist,holding me upright as the bond roared to life between us.
I felt everything he poured into that bite—want, fear, devotion, need andlove. The mark pulsed once, sending a shockwave through my magick so strong I cried out, clutching his forearm, a pulse of pleasure shooting through me.
“Hanna—” His voice broke against my skin. “Gods, I didn’t mean—did I hurt you?”
“No,” I gasped, leaning back into him. “Don’t stop.”
He groaned—a raw, wrecked sound—and bit down harder, sealing the mark with a surge of green magick surrounding both of us.
My magick reached for him, instinctively, wrapping around him like it had finally found the place it belonged. He trembled over me. So did I. When he finally lifted his mouth from my shoulder, I felt the heat of his breath against my marked skin, his lips ghosting over the sting with something unbearably gentle.
“Hanna,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “You’re mine now.”
I turned in his arms, breathless, shaking, heart pounding so hard it hurt.
“Only if you’re mine, too.”
His forehead pressed to mine. “I always was.”
