Dahlia
One moment, I’m on my feet. The next, he has me pinned beneath him, pressed against the earth, his heat enveloping me. Panic and need coil tight in my stomach, battling for dominance. My instincts scream at me to fight. But another, deeper instinct, one far older, urges me toward beautiful surrender.
“Eryon—” I gasp, but his growl cuts me off.
“You ran.” His voice is deep, guttural. Not human.
“I—”
“You ran,” he interruptsme again.
It isn’t a question. It’s a declaration. A challenge. A dark thrill pulses through me. My fingers curl into the earth as I admit, “I ran.”
We both know he isn’t talking about this moment, but the moment I ran to save him. A sound rumbles from his chest, something primal and pleased. His hand fists in my hair, tugging my head back, exposing my throat.
Dragging his nose along the long line of my neck, he growls so low I can scarcely make out the words, “You saved me. Youchoseme.”
Eryon
My lips crash against hers, claiming, consuming, setting fire to everything between us. She arches into me, her body molding against mine like she was made for this. My claws drag down her sides, not to harm, but to feel. To mark.
She is small against me, fragile—but not breakable. She has proven that.
She does not beg. She does not surrender. She bares her teeth against my mouth and takes as much as she gives. My perfect, reckless mate. My Sruhnar.
The beast in me is barely contained, the need to rut, to take, to brand her from the inside out pulsing through every fiber of my being. But something deeper, something older, steadies my hands.
She is alive. Warm. Strong. Mine.
She fought for me, risked everything for me. And now, here she is, wrapped around me, kissing me like she belongs to me—because she does.
The weight of it crashes over me, something heavier than lust.
Gratitude.
I almost lost this. I almost lost her. And if I had—there would be no world left to stand upon.
My hold tightens as I press my forehead to hers, breathing her in, my voice a raw, guttural whisper. “I will never let you go again.”
“And I will never leave you,” she shudders against me, her nails digging into my back, her lips trembling against mine as she whispers the word that is my undoing, “mate.”
Dahlia
Eryon flips me onto my hands and knees. The earth is cool beneath my palms, a stark contrast to the heat of his body as he cages me in, trapping me exactly where he wants me. Where I want to be.
A hiss escapes my mouth as he curls his massive form over me, trapping me between his large body and the earth. A satisfied growl rumbles from his chest as he subdues his prey. I had longed for this, to be taken by him in his full Migoi form.
I wanted the experience of pure primal claiming but now that I’m trapped, his hard cock pressed between us, I’m not so sure. Before I can think it through, my body reacts—bucking wildly, trying to throw him off my back, but it's futile. I can’t so much as budge the creature wrapped around me.
He brings his nose to my hair, scenting me. As his breath cascades over my ear and neck, shivers race across my shoulder and down my spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
I turn my head, desperate to catch a glimpse of those luminous eyes I love so much. Instead, I am rewarded with a snarl and a lick up the side of my face.
One large hand palms the back of my head, forcing it down to the ground to keep me pinned. A cry leaves my lips as the glorious weight of him disappears from my back. It turns to a gasp when he wrenches my hips up into the air. Great, snuffling breaths trace down my spine and over my ass. I hear a sharp inhale followed by a satisfied moan, my only warning before he devours me.
Eryon
Her body fits against mine too well, curves molding to my heat, yielding even as she trembles. Her pulse flutters beneath my lips. Her scent, thick with need, coils around me, drugging me. And when I part her thighs, when I press my mouth against her inner core, dripping with need—she screams.
