Page 134 of Iron Beneath the Snow

His hand tightened beneath her thigh.

The rock at her back remained cold. Snow caught in her loosened hair and melted against her skin. His blood marked her fingers where she touched his shoulder, but none of it pulled her away from him.

Everything narrowed.

Heat.

Breath.

Pressure.

The way his mouth moved against hers.

The way he held her as though stopping was still possible and neither of them intended to choose it.

Her rhythm broke first.

His followed.

The tension that had built between them for so long finally crested, moving through her with enough force to leave her breathless against his mouth. His body tightened against hers a moment later, his grip holding her securely as the response carried through them both.

For several seconds, neither of them moved.

The thread remained.

Not commanding.

Not choosing.

Simply there.

And whatever had happened between them belonged to more than it.

Silence returned gradually beneath the falling snow.

His forehead rested against hers, his breathing uneven at first before slowly beginning to steady.

One hand remained at her waist.

The other still supported her beneath the thigh.

Neither of them seemed in any hurry to restore the distance they had spent so long maintaining.

When he finally lowered her to the ground, the movement was careful.

There was no regret in his expression.

No apology.

Only a clarity that felt sharper for what had passed between them, as though something had aligned rather than unraveled.

Snow clung to her hair, melting slowly against the warmth still lingering in her skin.

Her gaze dropped to his shoulder.

“You’re bleeding.”

“It’s minor.”