The fated mate thing, the supernatural element she was still wrapping her mind around, suddenly made a devastating kind of sense. If this was the baseline—this earth-shattering, soul-deep rightness—then she wanted to explore every single inch of it.
TEN
LEANDER
Leander’s consciousness surfaced slowly, pulled from the deepest sleep he’d experienced in years. For a moment, he lay still, disoriented by the unfamiliar sense of peace that had settled into his bones. Then awareness crashed over him like a wave—the warm weight pressed against his chest, the silken cascade of blonde hair spilling across his shoulder, and the soft rhythm of breathing that wasn’t his own.
Camille. In his bed. In his arms.
The memory of the previous night flooded back with devastating clarity. Their joining hadn’t been mere physical release—it had been connection, pure and undeniable. Every touch, every word, every moment their bodies moved together had felt like coming home to something he hadn’t known he’d been searching for. His lion had recognized her completely, claimed her utterly, and now purred with deep satisfaction at having his mate exactly where she belonged.
He’d expected her to retreat afterward, to need space to process the intensity of what had passed between them. Instead, she’d surprised him by asking if she could stay with him through the night. The vulnerability in that request had nearly undone him completely. His fierce, independent mate choosing to trusthim with her sleep, her dreams, her unconscious vulnerability—it was a gift more precious than any empire he’d built.
“Of course,” he’d whispered, gathering her close. “Always.”
Now, watching her sleep in the golden morning light filtering through his bedroom windows, Leander felt something shift permanently in his chest. His lion was calmer than it had ever been, yet paradoxically more possessive. Every protective instinct he possessed had sharpened to a razor’s edge. She was his now—not in ownership, but in the deepest, most primal sense of belonging. The mate bond hummed between them, incomplete but growing stronger with every shared breath.
That fact both thrilled and terrified him. He wanted her to choose the bond, choose forever with him, but the choice had to be freely given. No coercion, no overwhelming alpha demands. She’d spent her entire life being pushed into decisions that served others’ agendas. He would not become another cage, no matter how desperately his lion wanted to complete the mate bond.
Camille stirred against him, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks before those stunning blue eyes opened. The smile that curved her lips when she saw him sent warmth through his chest.
“Good morning,” she murmured.
“Good morning, beautiful.” The endearment slipped out naturally, and he watched pink bloom across her cheekbones.
Everything in him wanted to abandon the world outside this room, to spend the day exploring every inch of her, learning what made her gasp and arch beneath his touch. This felt dangerously right—too right to risk losing.
But the Lexington project waited, along with all the complications that came with running an empire. Avoiding responsibility would only create more problems, and he neededhis focus sharp for what lay ahead, especially with Damian’s recent escalation.
Camille seemed to sense his internal struggle. She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before slipping from the warmth of his arms. His lion immediately whined at the loss of contact, every instinct screaming to pull her back.
“I should get dressed,” she said, wrapping the sheet around herself with unconscious grace. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen for coffee and breakfast.”
The moment she disappeared through his bedroom door, Leander catapulted from the bed. He moved with efficient speed, selecting a navy button-down and charcoal slacks—business casual rather than his usual armor of formal suits. He felt different this morning, lighter somehow, like a man who’d been carrying a weight he hadn’t realized was there until it lifted. The reflection in his bathroom mirror showed the same face, but something fundamental had changed in his eyes. They held warmth now, contentment, the look of a man who’d found his missing half.
The scar along his collarbone caught the light as he buttoned his shirt. Last night, when Camille’s fingers had traced that mark, he’d felt exposed in ways that had nothing to do with physical nakedness. She’d seen the wound that tied him to his darkest moment, and instead of recoiling, she’d kissed it with infinite tenderness. The memory sent a shiver through him.
Someday, he would tell her the whole truth—about his father’s murder, about the violence that had carved that scar into his skin, about the terror that lived in his chest whenever he loved someone enough to lose them. But not yet. Not when they were still building this fragile trust between them.
In the kitchen, he set about preparing their breakfast, the domestic routine feeling surprisingly natural. Coffee first—dark and strong the way he preferred it, with cream and sugar on theside for Camille. Bagels from the bakery downstairs. Simple, but it felt like the most important meal he’d ever prepared. The first joint meal after he claimed her.
When Camille appeared in the doorway, Leander’s breath caught in his throat. She wore a royal blue silk blouse that brought out her eyes, paired with a tailored black skirt and heels that made her legs look endless. Professional perfection, but he could see the woman beneath—his mate wearing his scent like invisible jewelry.
“You look incredible,” he said softly.
She smiled, accepting the coffee he offered. “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.”
“I was thinking,” he said, handing her a plate with her bagel, “would you mind looking over those Lexington blueprints today? I could use a fresh perspective on the spatial flow issues I’ve been wrestling with.”
Her face lit up like the sunrise. “I would love to. I’ve been thinking about it since last night when you mentioned it, and I have some ideas about maximizing the natural light while maintaining the structural integrity you need.”
His lion preened at making his mate happy, at seeing her passion for their shared work ignite her features. Brilliant, resilient, perfect—she could be more than his mate. Someday, perhaps, she could be his true partner in every sense of the word.
They gathered their breakfast and headed for the door, stepping out into the crisp Manhattan morning. The sun painted the city in shades of gold and amber, and Leander found himself thinking he could get used to this—walking to work with Camille at his side, sharing quiet conversation about their plans for the day, building a life together one morning at a time. His existence before her had been gray and hollow, success without joy, achievement without meaning. Now everything felt possible, bright with promise and potential.
The elevator ride to the forty-second floor passed in comfortable silence, but as the doors opened onto their floor, reality intruded. They would have to part ways now, maintain professional distance until he was ready to reveal the truth about their relationship. His hands itched to pull her close, to claim her mouth in front of everyone who might see, but discretion was necessary. For now.
“I’ll have the marked-up blueprints within the hour,” he said, his voice carefully neutral despite the fire in his eyes.
