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His mouth is everywhere – my neck, my collarbone, my lips. He murmurs things against my skin that make my head spin.

“You feel like heaven.”

“You were made for me.”

“My omega.”

“Mine.”

The way he says it – like a prayer, like a promise – makes something inside me snap. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groans, burying himself fully inside me.

“You’re close,” he pants. “I can feel it.”

“Don’t stop,” I beg. “Please, Xar—Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t.

He fucks me through it, hand slipping between us to circle my clit, and I come with a cry, shaking under him, my body locking around his.

He follows with a growl, spilling inside me, his knot swelling against my entrance as he groans my name like it’s a vow. He doesn’t push forward, doesn’tknotme despite being able to, and I don’t know if I’m grateful or disappointed for a flash, but then I relax and everything isperfect.

When we finally still, breathless and tangled together, his hand comes up to cradle my face.

“You’re everything, Evie,” he whispers, brushing his lips over mine. “Everything. I love you.”

And for the first time in my life, I believe it.

We stay like that for a long time.

Our bodies pressed together, tangled in sweat-damp sheets and the faint flicker of candlelight. It’s grounding. Intimate. Like we were made to fit this way.

I can feel his heartbeat against mine, steady and strong, the thrum of it echoing in the silence between us.

He brushes his fingers through my hair, the gesture gentle. Thoughtful.

“You okay?” he murmurs, voice roughened with emotion.

I nod, turning my face into his neck. “Better than okay.”

“Was it…what you expected?” There’s hesitation in his tone, as though he’s worried he’s hurt me, or moved too fast. “I didn’t want to?—”

“You didn’t,” I cut in softly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “It was perfect.Youwere perfect.”

His eyes darken again, but this time it’s not lust. It’s something deeper. Softer. The kind of look that strips your defences and replaces them with something warmer. Something permanent.

“I’vealwaysseen you, Evie,” he says, his voice low and sure. “But I didn’t want to scare you. I’m so glad we chose to do this outside of your heat.”

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, then another to the tip of my nose. “You’ve undone me completely. I don’t even recognise the version of myself that I was before we were sent here.”

My throat tightens. “I’m glad I’m yours.”

He holds me closer, his scent curling around me again and I melt into it, safe and sated.

Eventually I shiver and squirm, a little uncomfortable, and he carefully withdraws, murmuring apologies and praise with every small movement. I wince a little, but he’s quick to check on me, quick to clean me up, quick to wrap me in his arms again.

We lie together in the soft glow of the nest, tangled and warm, and I feel something fragile and beautiful bloom between us.

Trust. Acceptance. Love.