The word strikes me like a lightning bolt.
My gaze drops to her mouth before I can stop it, taking in the soft curve of her lips and the way her breath catches slightly between words.
And something low and instinctive pulls tight in my chest.
Mine.Romy Spencer ismine.
The urge to close the distance between us is immediate and fucking overwhelming. My body already leans forward before my mind catches up, before I remember where we are. Before I remember what this is.
I force myself still, dragging in a slow breath and anchoring my hands at my sides so I don’t reach for her.
“There’s a reason I went to the bathroom when I did,” I say. “A reason I came here even though it’s expressly forbidden and scaled the wall to get up here. There’s areason. A reason so much bigger than I’ve ever understood before now. A reason bigger than me or you or the people on this estate who think they’re above it.”
“Cal.”My eyes shutter as the voice in front of me shifts to another inside my head. Romy’s lips don’t move because she’s not said a word. Intrusively, Kane repeats my name. “Cal. Can you hear me?”
I open my mind to Rook, my thoughts preemptively loaded with annoyance and their shit timing, and his answer is to chuckle loudly.
“Oh, man,” Kane interjects. “You made Rook laugh. Like, really laugh. I can only fucking imagine what you must be thinking.”
“Cal?” Romy asks, confused by the distant haze of my eyes and stagnation of our conversation.
“Sorry,” I apologize, shutting Rook out of my mind immediately.
“Hey, what the fuck? Why the hell are you shutting us out?” Kane complains, but I ignore him.
“I’m sorry. Did you ask me something?” Romy is my only focus right now. Every minute I spend in this room and not in my château is a risk to both of us. As much as I wish we did, we don’t have a lot of time.
“I asked if you’re okay with what’s happening here?” she questions. “Because I want to believe you’re the guy I used to know, and I want to believe that there’s some kind of magical, romantic fate that’s pulling us together as…mates, but I am so busy freaking the hell out about this…placeand the way they’re—”
“I hate this place,” I say, cutting her off gently. My voice rumbles with the gravel of all the bullshit that’s brought us here. “Thistradition. I hate it with every physical fiber of my being and thetheoretical beyond. Romy, I promise you…I would never,everbe here if I didn’t have to be. And I want to explain that to you in detail, to put your mind at ease in any way I can, but I can’t right now because there are too many variables and too many risks.” I sigh. “I know it’s selfish and demanding. But I need you to trust me blindly. I need you to feel this thing between us and give in to it if you can. I need you—”
“I…I will. I do. Trust you.”
I freeze, overwhelmed by her unexpected submission and how wholly it touches me.
“Maybe it’s naïve of me,” she continues, “or maybe I’m just out of options, but Cal…seeing you in that hall tonight gave me the first full breath I’ve had in forty-eight hours. Hell, probably the first full breath I’ve had inyears. And seeing you here, in my room, is the best I’ve felt in a long time. I don’t understand it, but given the alternative, I don’t need to.” She shrugs. “I’m going all in on my instincts. For the guy I had a crush on when we were kids. I’m going all in for the guy who says he’d kill someone for me, all in on the kind of romance I never thought I’d get, and all in for one last chance to ruin my mother’s day. Because let me tell you, she is going tohatethis.”
Without thought or pause or restraint or the ability to hold myself back anymore, I lean forward and kiss her.
It’s a slow, closed-mouth kiss until she finds my neck with her hands and squeezes, and then I can’t help but breach the seam of her lips with my tongue and take a full taste.
She’s shooting stars and the lunar eclipse and validation for all the risks I’ve taken to get here. She’s strawberries and sweet cream, and memories of a childhood in a parallel universe. She’sthe answer to my questions and the reason I don’t ask why and, despite not knowing how badly I needed it, she’s the renewed fire under my ass to take this place apart one fucking screw at a time.
When I pull back, there’s only one word left to say. “Fuck.”
Shoving off the bed, I take to pacing beside it.
The longing to complete the bonding engulfs me, the smell of her blood and her pussy so distinct I’ll never forget it, and my need rages from the tip of my toes to the top of my head, a visceral reaction I can’t control.
But it’s too much for now—for her to handle and for the risk it creates of discovery by the guard outside her room, my uncle, or the Council itself.
Romy’s eyes are wide and her mouth flushed as she pushes herself up against the headboard again, no doubt frightened by my frenzy. I take a step away and steady my voice. “Push the armoire back in front of the window after I leave,” I instruct, and she nods.
I charge toward the window, desperate for the relief of Romy-scent-free air and labored by the repeated knocks inside my mind from both Kane and Rook. They’re fighting to break my grip, and I know I won’t be able to hold them off much longer.
But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let them in while I’m still here—while I’m feeling like this.
Romy follows behind me on her toes, her tanned legs feeling forever long as they peek out from under her sleep shirt. Herpretty auburn hair is ruffled, and I want to sink my hands into the roots of it so badly it hurts.
