Page 97
His anger shifts then, becoming something warmer and more shaken.
You thought— He stops, suddenly careful with the place he touched. The bond brushes that thought I had by mistake, the one that flared before Hannah left.
I love him a little.
My face heats. “Don’t,” I warn, but there’s no bite in it.
His eyes go devastatingly soft. Little Ember thinks loud.
“Little Ember is emotionally exhausted and should not be held accountable for stray thoughts during porch confrontations.”
Stray thoughts often know the path home.
“Oh, shut up.”
He already is, technically, which makes the look he gives me deeply unfair.
I kiss him because I need him to stop looking at me like that, and because I’ve been wanting to kiss him since before I found Hannah on my porch. This time, the kiss starts softer, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. Onyx’s hands spread across my back, and the bond fills with that word again, less growled now, more reverent than frantic.
Mine.
I pull back just enough to look at him. “You know,” I say, my voice low, “I was gonna talk to you tonight before all this.”
His focus sharpens instantly. Talk?
“About us.”
His hands still, and I feel the wall begin to rise, the careful restraint, the fear of his own want. Before it can settle fully between us, I slide my hands down his chest and hold his gaze.
“About how I want you again,” I say, and my voice shakes, but I don’t take the words back. “And how you keep pullin’ away because you’re afraid of losin’ control.”
Onyx looks at me like the porch has fallen out from under him.
I swallow, braver now because his jealousy already cracked something open and because I am tired of wanting alone in a bond built for two.
“I’m not askin’ you to stop bein’ careful,” I tell him. “I’m askin’ you to trust me when I say I know what I want. I’m not human-normal anymore, not after the bond, not after what we’ve already done, and even before all that. I’m still a grown man with a say in his own damn body.”
I slide my hands down his chest to his waist, feeling the restraint still trembling under his skin. “You taught me thresholds, Wildheart. You taught me my ‘yes’ matters. So let it matter when I’m sayin’ yes to this too. I want you.”
I rise onto my toes and kiss the corner of his mouth, the way he kissed me this morning, because I can now. His forehead drops to mine, and a shudder runs through him.
You want me when I am jealous.
My face goes hot. “Unfortunately.”
When I am wild.
“Yes.”
When I am not only human shape.
My breath catches, and he feels it immediately. His eyes search mine with that terrible, tender focus that makes lying impossible.
I lift my chin. “I want all of you. That’s been the problem the whole time. We don’t have to figure it all out on the porch, but you’re comin’ inside—and I don’t just mean the goddamn cabin.”
The bond flashes bright with satisfaction so immediate I almost laugh. Annoying den loses again.
I grin despite myself and take his hand, tugging him toward the threshold Hannah never crossed. “Yeah, Wildheart. Tonight, it loses.”
