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“Doc.” His tail curls around my wrist, gently drawing me away from my work. “You’ve been at this for hours.”

Looking up, I catch my breath at his proximity. The crystal light plays across his skin, turning it to liquid garnet. His injured wing trembles slightly with the effort of staying folded, and guilt claws at my chest. If I’d recognized the toxin sooner, if I’d been brave enough to admit what I know…

“I can’t stop.” My voice wavers. “Not when the spread patterns indicate—”

His clawed finger beneath my chin stops my scientific rambling. “Blair. Come here.” His voice is deep and filled with affection.

Before I can protest, he draws me into the circle of his arms. His wings curve around us, creating a private world that feels like safety and danger all at once. His masculine scent makes my knees weak.

“Your brilliant mind needs rest, too.” His words vibrate through his chest where I’m pressed against him.

“I can’t lose you.” The admission tears free before I can stop it. “Not to this. Not when I— "I swallow the rest—not when I’m falling in love with you. Not when telling you the truth might destroy everything. Not when I see my father’s signature all over this toxin—elegant and devastating.

Not when it’s based on the same venom compound he extracted from my mother’s wounds, the formula I started in his lab that he has obviously perfected over decades of obsession and grief, now weaponized against you.

I say none of that, though,because I know in my heart that if he knew even half the truth of who I really am, where I really came from, he would find a way to leave me—mate bond or no mate bond.

Instead of answering, he tilts my face up. His eyes hold warmth that steals my breath. When his lips meet mine, the kiss is achingly gentle—a stark contrast to his fearsome appearance. His tail winds more securely around my waist as I press closer, seeking a connection I don’t deserve.

My fingers trace the curve of his horns, finding that sensitive spot at the base that makes him growl softly. His skin heats beneath my touch, shifting to that iridescent shade that seems to shout his affection for me. The kiss deepens as his claws card carefully through my hair.

“Your heart’s racing,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Any scientific observations about that?”

“Several.” But coherent thought deserts me as his wings tighten around us, blocking out everything except the heat of his skin and the way he makes me feel precious and protected. “Though I may need more data…”

His quiet laugh vibrates through my bones. “Always the researcher.”

When he kisses me again, there’s more urgency—like he senses my inner turmoil and wants to chase it away. His gentle dominance makes me melt against him, forgetting everything except how perfectly we fit together.

His wings create shifting shadows as the crystal light plays across our intertwined forms. Each brush of his heated skin sends electricity racing through my nerve endings.

“Stay with me tonight,” he whispers against my hair. “Let me hold you while you sleep.”

The trust in his voice breaks my heart. If he knew what I was, who I came from… But I’m too weak to resist the safety of his embrace, the promise of comfort in his arms.

“Yes,” I breathe, letting him lead me toward his chamber. The weight of secrets can wait until morning. For now, there’s only this—his wings around me, his heart beating steadily against my back, his tail wound possessively around my waist.

As we enter, his chamber reveals itself in the soft crystal light—a space that is quintessentially Dante. Unlike the sterile laboratories I’ve grown accustomed to, his private sanctuary feels alive with his essence.

Carefully arranged crystal formations cast gentle illumination across the walls, their patterns shifting with our movements. The large bed nestled against the far wall is built into a natural depression in the stone, filled with soft blankets that look surprisingly inviting.

“It’s not what you’re used to,” he says, a hint of uncertainty in his voice as I take in the room.

“It’s perfect,” I reply, surprising myself with the sincerity in my tone.

As we settle onto his bed, his uninjured wing creates a canopy above us, sheltering us from the world beyond this moment. The silence between us holds all the words we’re not saying—the secrets I keep about my father’s weapons, the truth he hides about his injured wing. Yet somehow, lying here in his arms, those barriers seem less insurmountable than they did hours ago.

“Your heart rate has stabilized,” he observes, scientific precision in his voice that makes me smile despite everything.

“Yours too,” I counter,fingers tracing gentle patterns across his chest. “Though your temperature remains elevated by approximately 1.2 degrees above baseline.”

His quiet laugh vibrates through me. “Always collecting data.”

“Some habits are difficult to break.” My hand stills over his heart, feeling its steady rhythm beneath my palm. “Even when other variables warrant prioritization.”

“Other variables?” His tail curls more securely around my waist.

Instead of answering, I press closer, my head finding that perfect spot on his chest that feels like it was designed specifically for me. His wing adjusts to cover us more completely. The painkiller I added to the injection I gave him is providing him relief from his pain.