Page 30

I wake to the gentle pressure of a cool cloth on my face. Around me is a sweet, gently charred scent. Something deep and masculine, like cedar wood in a fire that’s been burning for far too long.

My eyelids are heavy, and though I expected my body to hurt, it doesn’t. I feel heavy, like I might not be able to lift my limbs, but there’s no pain there. No hurting.

When I open my eyes, Xeran is there, those dark blue eyes intent on me.

“Nora?” It’s the first thing I ask, a word that escapes my lips before thoughts are even present in my head.

“She’s okay. She’s sleeping,” he assures me, lifting a hand and running it along my hairline, pulling a few errant strands away from my sticky face. “She kind of saved our lives, Phina.”

I blink as the memories come back to me. Declan. The fire, closing in around us. Nora reaching for her power, even as I knew there was none left in her little body.

When I move to sit up, Xeran’s hand finds my shoulder, and he helps me into position.

I can tell from the scent that this is his room—it’s so thick in here, so comforting and warm, like steam from a scented bath.

It’s dark, with the curtains drawn. Without asking, he hands me a glass of water, positioning the straw so I can take a sip.

“What time is it?” I ask, eyes finding his.

“It’s around one,” he says, his gaze wandering over me like he might need to take stock of any changes, watch me for injuries. “You’ve been sleeping for almost twenty-four hours now. Do you remember any of the times I woke you up?”

I blink again, my understanding of time realigning with what he’s said. It’s not surprising to me that I slept for that long, but it takes a moment for my brain to adjust.

“No,” I admit, slowly bringing my gaze to Xeran’s.

“I’ve been feeding you,” he says with a soft smile. “I’ve been waking each of you up every few hours, making sure you eat. Nora is like a furnace, so I’ve been putting some cold compresses around her, too.”

“She was so brave,” I whisper, remembering the little dome she made. The fear on the faces around me, and the way her magic saved us, combined with mine. We made something stronger together.

It feels like a fever dream.

“She was,” Xeran agrees, putting his hand on my shoulder when I reposition myself again. “Take it easy—I don’t know how much time your body will need to heal. To adjust.”

“Are the others okay?”

“Well, this experience finally convinced Soren to get an inhaler,” Xeran jokes.

When I keep looking at him, prying for more information, he runs his hand along my arm, tracing the path of my wrist bone.

“Yes. Everyone is okay. Though Felix was a little mind-blown at the display of magic from the two of you.”

My eyes widen. “Are they going to say something?”

“To who?” Xeran jokes softly. “The alpha supreme?”

I stare at him in confusion, then I realize what he’s saying. He assumed that title the moment Declan died. I replay the image of him tossing Declan’s body over the cliff. I know it should make me sick and not filled with pride, but I can’t help the way I feel.

“It’s going to take a while for the town to recover and rebuild,” Xeran says, and the way his eyes flash tells me that it was bad this time.

I knew that already from driving with him and seeing the flames, but it’s always worse after, seeing the piles of silken ash.

“But we can do it. We’ve done it before. ”

Xeran wasn’t here for the first round of rebuilding. I can only imagine things will go smoother under his leadership.

We sit in silence for a moment. I can feel my mind physically processing this information, working through everything that’s happened. It settles between us like a weight, like something you could reach out and touch.

I see it in Xeran’s expression, in the wrinkle on his brow, the set of his shoulders. He’s wearing an open button-up shirt, and for the first time, I see the thick white bandages around his chest. Dressing the wounds he got from Declan.

He really is the alpha supreme now.

“You should rest, too,” I say, reaching out and skimming my fingers over the bandages. “You’re hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. I know he’ll heal faster than me, and even faster than other alphas, but I grab his hand, anyway, tugging on him until he gives in and climbs into the bed with me, taking special care not to jostle me.

Once he’s settled and I’m staring at his ocean-blue eyes, the rest of what happened on the ridge comes back to me.

“Xeran—” I start, but he reaches out, taking my hand in his.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now, Phina. All I want is for you to get better.”

We don’t have to talk about it. The “it” could be so many things—the magic, our future, the truth that I kept from him for far too long.

Maybe we don’t have to talk about it, but I find myself forming the words, anyway.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I say, dropping my gaze to my hands, working quickly on the edge of the duvet.

“I understand why you didn’t.”

That surprises me, and my eyes fly up to meet his. “You do?”

He shrugs, closes his eyes, and lets out a breath. “You tried to claim me as your mate. I told everyone you were a liar. It makes sense that you’d assume sharing the pregnancy with me wouldn’t go much better.”

“I wish it had been less public, but it’s not like I expected you to lie for me—”

“I did lie, Phina.” When my eyes find his, his face is more serious than I’ve ever seen it. “You were right, and you felt it correctly, even back then.”

“Are you saying…?”

“You are my fated mate.” His pupils damn near swallow his irises when he says it, and it makes something in my stomach turn over giddily, like I’m a teenager again. “And I was an asshole to ever deny you.”

It’s my turn to tell him I understand, because I do. “You were under a lot of pressure—”

“You and I both know the bullying didn’t start and stop with that mating bond thing,” he says matter-of-factly. “And I meant it when I said it, Phina. I’m sorry for every ounce of pain I put you through back then. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

I swallow, eyes returning to the blanket. “But it’s too late. You already announced that to the pack, and I know what it would look like—”

“What it would look like if I were to discover my daughter? If I were to spend more time with you and realize the bond was there after all? What a miracle that would be?”

My eyes fly up to his so fast, I almost give myself a headache. He’s already thought it through—and he’s right. The pack would accept something like that. Would certainly prefer him being there for his own daughter, even if it meant going back on what he originally said.

“But…” I start the sentence, not sure where it ends, not knowing what comes next, but being pretty sure that there should be something in our way. Something standing between Xeran Sorel and me. There has to be something keeping us from being together. There always has been before.

“But nothing,” he says, scooting in closer to me, close enough that I feel his lips moving as he talks.

“I’m in love with you, Seraphina. I have been since we were teenagers, and I’m tired of letting life get in the way.

I love you, and I love Nora, and if you’ll have me, I would like to build a life here with you in Silverville. ”

This time, I’m the one who kisses him. I surge forward and find his lips with mine.

He tries to pull back, muttering something about me needing to rest. But I don’t need rest.

I know exactly what I need.

Pushing Xeran onto his back, I swing my leg over him, straddling his waist and gasping against the feeling of him against me.

I know that being around him more means more—and much longer—heats in the future.

And I don’t care. In fact, the idea of a few days in which I do nothing but stay in bed with Xeran sounds like something I could get on board with.

He sits up, scooting so his back is against the headboard, and I stay in his lap as he strips off my nightgown and hooks his thumbs in my panties, drawing them off my legs as I raise myself up for a second.

I pull his shirt off, being careful of his bandages, and when I reach into his pants, I gasp at the feeling of his cock, hard and ready for me.

“Sera phina ,” he gasps, letting his head fall forward against my shoulder as I start to work him in long strokes, enjoying the way his body moves around me, how he grips me closer to him like I’m the only thing in the world that could ever scratch this itch.

And eventually, he makes it clear that my hand is not enough for him.

He lifts his hips, pushes his pants to the end of the bed, grips me by the waist, and lowers me down onto his dick, slowly applying gentle pressure until I’m taking in all of him, his cock hitting that spot inside me that makes little spots appear in my vision.

When I start to ride him, he leans forward, taking my right nipple in his mouth as his left hand massages my other breast. His right hand grasps my hip, firm and solid, guiding my rhythm.

It’s far better than any fumbling thing we did as teenagers.

I grind against him, and as I bear down, seeking my own pleasure, it blends into his.

He thrusts up into me, his hips moving almost of their own accord, and as we move together, he whispers in my ear.

About wanting to flip me over and get me on my back.

About wanting to bend me over the side of this bed, wanting to take me in the shower.

Wanting to taste me on his tongue as I come for him.

It brings me closer to the edge, filling my head with all the possibilities in our future. All the ways he can touch me, love me, feel me, fuck me.

When I come apart on him, his head drops back and he watches me through half-lidded eyes, his gaze darting between my tits and my face, his cock throbbing deep inside me but still not releasing, like he’s holding it back.

He’s not the only one who can dirty-talk.

“Please,” I whisper, leaning forward and placing my lips against his ear. “I want to feel your knot inside me, Xeran.”

And with that, he comes undone.