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His eyes were bright gold only inches from mine.

"Look at me." His voice had gone rough and low. "Don't close your eyes. I want you to see me. I’m like a starving dog for you."

His fingers circled my clit slowly before slipping inside me. My body opened around him, wet and aching, and a broken sound escaped me before I could hold it back. Whenever my eyelids started to fall, his voice brought my attention back to him.

"Hale. Look at me. I beg you."

I did.

There was no distance left in his face now. I could see everything he wanted and everything it cost him to let me see it.

The bond vibrated between us, bright and insistent beneath my breastbone.

Pleasure built faster than I expected. His hand kept a steady rhythm while the glass chilled my back and his body held close against mine. The Glasshouse smelled heavily of damp earth and roses, but I barely noticed anything except his fingers, his breathing, and the way he watched me.

My hands tightened on his shoulders.

"Kaelen—"

"I need you," he breathed. "All this time, I needed you so much."

I came with my eyes open.

His fingers were still inside me, his thumb moving over my clit, while his gold gaze stayed fixed on my face. He watched every tremor go through me, and I watched the last of his control give way with it.

That was what he had wanted. Not simply to touch me, but to let me see exactly how much touching me affected him.

He held me when my legs weakened, one arm wrapping around my waist while the other remained braced beside me. His forehead came down against mine, and for a while we only stood there trying to breathe.

Then, quietly, he said my name.

"Wren."

I went still. It was the first time he actually said my name.

"You said it."

"I've said it every night in my bed." His voice was wrecked. "I said it every time I touched myself, wishing it could be you touching me instead."

I reached for his belt.

His hand closed over mine immediately.

"But I… I cannot now."

"Kaelen—"

"If I touch you any more, if I have you here now the way I want to, my wolf will Claim you." His forehead remained against mine. His hand was shaking over mine. "He won't wait for me to decide. I can feel him. I've been holding him back since you walked up that aisle."

He swallowed. "And if you leave this Glasshouse tonight with my mark on your throat, after what the Council just saw in there and after what you did in the Pit… They might find a way to bypass the law. My father might do it himself."

His eyes finally closed. "They'll kill you tonight."

I stood there with the torn dress hanging open and his hand covering mine at his belt.

I believed him.

The refusal still hurt, but only for a moment. Some old instinct inside me tried to turn it into the same ugly explanation I had given myself before: that I had wanted too much, that I had misunderstood, that even now he was drawing a line because there was something about me he couldn't accept.