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I sit on the edge of the nest, then lean in slowly, my pulse fluttering. He stays still, letting me lead, and I press my lips to his in a kiss that’s meant to be thank-you. Soft. Gentle.

But it deepens quickly.

His hand comes up to cradle my cheek, thumb brushing the line of my jaw as he kisses me back, slow and searching. When we finally pull apart, my breath is shaky, and there’s something burning low in my belly.

“I didn’t think you liked me that way,” I murmur, eyes locked on his.

He blinks. “What?”

I shrug, trying to keep it casual, but my voice wavers. “Blaise is always flirting. Xar’s so open about how he feels. But you…you’re just always looking after me. Which is lovely, but I thought maybe you didn’t…want me.”

He lets out a sound halfway between a groan and a laugh. Then he sits up fully, reaching for my hand. He laces our fingers together, then slowly, deliberately, guides my palm to his lap.

I feel him.

Hard. Thick. Unmistakably aroused beneath the softness of the blanket.

My mouth goes dry.

“Does that feel like I don’t want you?” he says, voice like gravel and heat.

I shake my head slowly, lips parted, pulse thrumming through every inch of me.

“I want you,” he murmurs, pulling me closer. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I laid eyes on you. But you needed safety first. Now you’ve got it.”

Something in me splinters at that.

Because he’s right.

And because he’s not pushing, not demanding, justoffering.

My palm is still against him, heat and need pulsing through the fabric. My fingers twitch slightly, and his breath catches. He’s letting me feel him, letting medecide. And fuck, that decision has never been clearer.

His lips find mine again, deeper this time. It’s not a thank-you kiss anymore – it’s hungry, coaxing, made of want and restraint and something deeper. His hands cradle my face like I’m precious, but there’s heat behind his touch, steady and anchoring.

The moment I open to him, something cracks open inside me.

He groans softly, his tongue brushing against mine, and I melt. I’m weightless in his lap, my body buzzing with need. The haze hasn’t hit yet, but my omega is already stirring, restless and needy, purring so loud in my chest it’s like thunder in my ears.

“Dane,” I whisper into the kiss, and he pulls back just enough to look at me.

His eyes are molten. “Still okay?”

I nod, breathless. “More than.”

He smiles like I’ve just given him the world.

I rise onto my knees and straddle his lap slowly, the blankets shifting around us. His hands hover for a moment before settling on my waist, big and warm and grounding. He’s so careful, like he’s afraid to startle me – but the tension in his arms tells me he’s holding himself back by a thread.

“You’re always so calm,” I whisper, tracing the line of his collarbone with trembling fingers. “Even now. You feel like…anchor ropes in a storm.”

He smiles faintly, eyes darkening as I settle fully against him, my shirt bunched up and probably exposing my underwear. “And you’re fire in the middle of it,” he says, voice low. “You burn and bloom at the same time.”

The compliment stuns me. I breathe it in like oxygen.

I lean in to kiss him again, deeper this time – needy, hungry. His lips part for me immediately, and when our tongues meet, it’s electric. A low growl rumbles in his chest, vibrating against mine. I can feel him, hard and thick beneath me, and my hips rock forward instinctively.

He groans.