It crested, and she shattered.
The world went white. Every nerve in her body ignited simultaneously, pleasure rippling through her in waves that seemed to go on forever. She heard herself crying out, felt her hands gripping the sheets like anchors, but it all seemed distant, muffled by the roaring in her ears.
When she finally came back to herself, he was stretched out beside her, one hand stroking lazy patterns on her stomach.
“That was...” She couldn’t find words.
His smile was soft, almost tender. “It can be even better.”
“Better?”
“Mm.” He kissed her forehead. “But not today.”
She blinked, still hazy with afterglow. “Why not?”
“Because you’ve had your world turned upside down. Because you’re processing grief and betrayal and the revelation that everything you believed was a lie.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I won’t take advantage of that. Not today.”
“You’re not taking advantage. I want this.”
“I know.” Another kiss, this one pressed to her temple. “And if you still want it after you’ve had time to think, I’ll give you everything. But right now, you need rest more than you need me.”
She wanted to argue. She wanted to tell him that she needed him most, that his touch was the only thing keeping her grounded in a world that had suddenly become terrifying and strange. But exhaustion was already pulling at her, the combination ofemotional upheaval and physical release dragging her towards sleep.
“Stay,” she whispered. “Please.”
“Always.”
He pulled her against his chest, arranging the blankets around them until she was cocooned in warmth. His heartbeat was steady beneath her ear—strong and reliable and present in a way nothing else in her life had ever been.
“Baylin?”
“Mm?”
“Thank you. For telling me the truth. For not... not hiding it like everyone else.”
His arms tightened around her. “I will never lie to you. I promise you that. Whatever else happens, you will always have the truth from me.”
She believed him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Liora’s breathing had finally evened into the deep rhythm of sleep.
Baylin lay motionless beside her, one arm still wrapped around her waist, her head pillowed against his chest. He could feel every inch of her pressed against him—the soft weight of her body, the warmth of her skin, the faint flutter of her pulse beneath his fingertips.
His beast prowled restlessly beneath his skin, demanding more.
Mate,it insisted.Ours. Claim her.
He gritted his teeth and forced the instinct down. The beast didn’t understand concepts like trauma or emotional vulnerability. It only understood possession and protection, the ancient drives that had kept Vultor alive for millennia.
But he knew that what she needed right now wasn’t claiming—it was freedom.
She stirred slightly in her sleep, her brow furrowing as if troubled by dreams. He smoothed a hand over her hair, and the lines on her face eased.
What have I gotten myself into?
He’d come to this tower searching for answers. He’d expected to find abandoned technology. Maybe useful salvage. Perhaps evidence of some long-forgotten research station.
