She snorted a laugh, an ungraceful, very un-Zola-like sound, and I took it as a victory.
“Come on,” I coaxed. “Arms up.”
To my surprise, she obliged my request. I slipped my shirt over her head, guiding her arms through the sleeves and smoothing the fabric down. The towel fell to the floor, and my scent wrapped around her, sinking into her skin, marking her.
My panther purred in delight as a surge of deep, primal satisfaction rolled through my chest.
Zola blinked down at herself, yanking at the oversized hem. “It’s huge.”
“It’s mine,” I said quietly.
Her eyes lifted, meeting mine, and a spark passed between us, the threads of our bond weaving together.
I swallowed hard. “Let’s get you to bed,” I said, voice rougher than I intended. “Before you fall asleep on the floor.”
She rolled her eyes, but when I offered my hand, she took it.
After dimming the lanterns in the room, I eased Zola beneath the blankets, guiding her down slowly so she didn’tget tangled in the sheets. She made a soft sound—half sigh, half contented hum—as her head sank into the pillow. I circled to the other side and slid into bed beside her, keeping a careful inch of space between us even as every instinct screamed to pull her close.
But the moment I settled, she turned toward me and closed the distance between us. She shifted until she was facing me fully, with her cheek pressed into the pillow. Her knees brushed mine beneath the covers. The one remaining lantern caught the curve of her face and the faint flush still lingering on her cheeks.
“Shaw,” she murmured, voice quiet and blurred with exhaustion. “Are you… Are you naked?”
I chuckled. “Of course. It’s how I always sleep. Tonight is no exception.”
She scoffed. “Gods above, shifters.”
“Well, I did keep the towel on. So, I take it back. No, I’m not.”
She laughed, a sound so pure it damn near broke me.
I turned to look at her, and gods, it hurt. The sight of her wrapped in my shirt, in my bed, her breathing gentle and even as she blinked up at me. This was how I wanted to fall asleep for the rest of my days.
My hand lifted on its own as I brushed a loose strand of hair away from her forehead, fingers brushing her cheek. She leaned into my touch like it was an instinct, and the bond pulsed between us, warm and aching.
Looking up, her eyes searched mine. “Why…” she whispered, “why won’t you claim me tonight?”
The question landed like a blow to the ribs.
Becausegods, I wanted to. My panther pushed, demanding I touch, kiss, andclaim her. But I held the line—I had to.
I let my thumb graze her temple, tracing the curve there. “Zola.” I breathed her name like it was a prayer to the gods. “I want you. Gods, I want to claim you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”
Her brows drew together, confusion flickering. “Then why not now?”
I swallowed hard. My voice came out low, ragged, and honest. “Because I will claim you, my mate… when this war is over. When we have a future worthy of binding ourselves to.”
Her lips parted slightly, with her breath catching.
I kept going, brushing another strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to claim you because I fear there won’t be a tomorrow. I want to claim you, knowing there will beforever.”
She stared at me, and something softened in her expression. Her fingers crept beneath the blankets, brushing my forearm. “Forever,” she echoed, her voice barely audible.
I nodded, leaning close enough for the warmth of my breath to caress her skin, but not close enough for the kiss we both wanted.
“Forever,” I repeated. “I won’t bind us in the shadow of war. I’ll bind us in the light of victory.”
Her eyes fluttered, heavy and warm, her hand settling fully on my skin.
