"No." The word comes out flat and final. "Absolutely not."
"Listen to me?—"
"No, you listen to me." I slide off the boulder and move to stand directly in front of her, forcing her to meet my eyes. "If you think for one second that I'm going to let you sacrifice yourself for some misguided idea of protecting me, you're out of your mind."
Her ears twitch forward slightly, surprise flickering across her features.
Good. I have her attention.
"Besides," I continue, reaching up to cup her face in my hands, "where exactly do you think you're going to go? They're not just hunting you because of me, Gray. They're hunting you because of what you are. Running away won't change that."
She leans into my touch despite herself, a soft whine escaping her throat. "But if I'm not here, they'll leave you alone. You could go back to your cottage, pretend none of this ever happened."
"And live the rest of my life knowing I let the person I love most sacrifice herself for nothing?" I shake my head. "That's not living, Gray. That's just... existing. And I'm done with that."
I can see the moment her resolve starts to waver, the way her eyes soften and her shoulders slump slightly. But she's stubborn, my Gray, and I can practically see her building up new arguments in her head.
Time for a different approach.
I let my hands slide down from her face to rest against her chest, feeling the rapid flutter of her heartbeat under my palms. "You know," I say conversationally, "I had the most interesting dreams last night."
Her eyes narrow slightly, suspicious of the sudden change in topic. "Maris..."
"About you," I continue, letting my fingers trace idle patterns in her fur. "About us. About all the things we haven't had time to explore yet."
Her breath catches, and I feel her heart rate spike under my touch. Perfect.
"We've been so focused on surviving, on figuring out this whole situation," I murmur, stepping closer until there's barely any space between us. "But last night, I dreamed about what it would be like to just... be with you. Really be with you."
"Maris, what are you—" Her voice is rougher now, breathless in a way that has nothing to do with running.
Instead of answering, I rise up on my toes and press my lips to the sensitive spot just behind her ear. She shudders beneath my touch, a low growl rumbling in her chest that I can feel as much as hear.
"I'm showing you," I whisper against her fur, "exactly what you'd be walking away from."
My fingers find the places that make her breath hitch and her eyes flutter closed, and I take my time exploring every sensitivespot I can reach. When I press my lips to the hollow of her throat, she makes a sound that's half whimper, half growl, and her massive hands come up to tangle gently in my hair.
"Maris," she breathes, and there's something almost desperate in the way she says my name, ruffling the hair by my ear and causing goosebumps across my body.
"I'm here," I murmur against her skin, letting my hands roam lower. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."
She tries to protest again, to bring up all her noble reasons for leaving, but I silence her with my mouth on hers, pouring all my love and determination into the kiss until she's trembling beneath my touch.
Her warm arms encircling me in a net of safety, provide the security I never knew growing up, and the gentle autumn breeze helps to somewhat cool the fire burning beneath my skin.
When I finally pull back, we're both breathing hard, and her eyes are dark with want and something deeper.
"Please," I whisper, my forehead pressed against hers. "Let me show you what you mean to me. Let me show you what we'd both be losing."
Let me love you, I want to say.
It’s not something words could portray. I need to tell her all the ways I love her with my hands, lips, and teeth. I have this deep desire to show her that I’ve also claimed her as my own.
Her resistance crumbles entirely then, and she pulls me closer with a reverent tenderness that makes my heart ache. We lose ourselves in each other, in whispered endearments and gentle touches, in the way she holds me like I'm something precious and fragile.
But she’s fragile and precious to me, too, even if she seems strong and unshakable at times. I know deep down, she’s just as scarred and damaged as I am, just as easily broken with weapons or words.
I kiss and smooth all those worries away, exploring her like she had explored me that first time back in our cave, and also, in a way, discovering things about myself.
