He turned his head.
She was asleep beside him in the vast bed, her dark hair like spilled ink on the white pillowcase, fanning out in a way that suggested a restless night or a deep, troubled sleep. It was a thick, lustrous cascade, straight as a fall of black silk, catching the faint light from the window in subtle, glossy highlights that hinted at brown undertones she usually hid under her tactical gear.
The beautiful, sharp features he knew so well were relaxed in sleep, smoothing out the constant tension lines that marred her face when she was awake. Her skin, usually pale from long nights in the shadows or hidden in the jungle, looked luminous in the dim light, with a soft, warm undertone that made her look almost fragile. Her cheekbones were high and angled, a legacy of the fierce lineages she carried, but now they were just bone and skin, not a weapon. Her lips were slightly parted, their natural fullness soft and pink, giving her an unguarded vulnerability he rarely saw.
She wore a simple gown that covered her to her smooth, toned upper thighs. His gaze traveled down those long, shapelylegs to her delicate ankles and lovely feet. The black garment draped over her curves, clung to the slope of her shoulder and the line of her spine, slipping just enough at the collarbone to reveal the swell of her full breasts, making him remember they were tipped with sweet, pink nipples. Seeing her like this made him hard, but, knowing this woman as he did, this bit of silk was all about comfort.
The material was thin and fluid, sliding over the firm contours of her torso and the dip of her waist in a way that made him want to trace every line with his hands, to memorize the shape of her again without the distraction of the world trying to tear them apart.
He noted her hand was resting on his chest, right over his heart, like she needed the anchor to him even in her sleep. He bet she fought sleep with the same ferocious stubbornness she showed the world.
He shifted, turning his body toward hers, the movement slow and careful. He stared at her for a long moment, processing the wreckage of the last twenty-four hours. First, that fucking flashback of hers while he was lost in the thick, sensual haze of her mouth. Being jerked from that pleasure only to find her losing her shit still made his chest ache and his dick curse the circumstances.
Then the agony of her refusal to take his arm, to travel tucked against him so he could feel her and keep her safe. That still hurt like a son of a bitch, and his usual humor to deflect eluded him, a part of him recognizing that his mechanism to keep him protected failed him.
Was it because he didn’t want to be protected like that from her? That the barrier was something he just didn’t want between them?
The chaotic battle in the glade, even the illusion of seeing Twister pinned under all that damn rock, trying to dig him out,knowing that he was bleeding out, hit like it was happening all over again…and the final, shattering moment when he'd been struck by her blue light. His body was still buzzing with it, a foreign current that hummed under his skin.
That weighed on him most heavily. It was so different from the chakana experience, which had been sexual and intimate, a mutual discovery. Getting zapped, being forced into his eagle form without his consent, had been almost the same, but it had twisted inside him until it felt dark and disrespectful, a violation.
He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the line of her jaw. Her eyes fluttered open, dark and immediate.
His instinct was to deflect, to smooth it over with humor. "Hey," he started, his voice rough. "Show me your hands."
She flinched, a subtle recoil that was worse than a slap. "Don't do that," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "Don't try to be charming or deflect me.” Her eyes glittered.
She'd been crying. He could see it at the edges, the slight redness she hadn't let progress to ruin. While he had checked out, she'd cried quietly beside him, he was sure of it, and that wrecked him in the worst way. “You need to be here in this moment with me. We have things that need to be discussed. Promise me, you'll be serious. I need that now, Jae."
The use of his first name, the raw plea in her voice, stripped away every defense. He nodded slowly. "Okay. babe. Will you move closer, and let me hold you?"
“Not yet…I don’t deserve that yet.”
He clenched his jaw, working at keeping his body still. He exhaled, accepting her answer, even though he hated it. "How long?" he said. His voice came out rough.
She looked at her watch. “Oh, God. Twelve hours."
He registered that. He'd lost twelve hours.
"The team."
"Settled. The estate's staff have taken care of them. They’ve eaten, and I had them on standby for when you woke up. Easy, Twister, and North sacked out in the east wing. Fly is doing his Fly stuff, dozing now and again. My father's in his study and won’t come up to disturb us." She murmured, her gaze going over his face with an aching, haunted sweep, her dark lashes thick and framing her eyes. "He knows you're here. He doesn't know what you are to me. I haven't been ready to explain it."
The not-yet-explained sat between them.
He took a slow breath in. His ribs ached in the specific way ribs ached after he'd pushed his channel past sustainable limits. He could feel where the eagle had ripped out of him in the glade. The bird hadn't asked permission to leave his body and wasn't asking permission to be carried back inside it. He could feel the wing-shape lying along his back like a stranger he'd agreed to share a bed with.
"The eagle…you changed me," he said. Not accusing. Just naming.
"I did."
He waited.
She hadn't looked away from his face since he'd opened his eyes. He watched her find the words. He watched her decide to say the hard version instead of the easy one.
"I forced you," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to. The font opened to me when I refused the phantom. The power found the fracture between us. I felt it go through. I felt it hit you. I knew what was happening to you before it happened, and I couldn't stop it. I'm sorry."
He accepted the apology, her words releasing that tight place in his chest.
