Page 41

In short, it was a miserable time.

Skye took another draw on the cigar, shaping his mouth into an oh and puffing out a ring of smoke. “Do you ever think this island might be cursed?”

“Frequently,” Taly said, touching a finger to the smoke, setting it spinning. “But it’s home.”

“It is.” He rested his head against the swing. “I kind of love it.”

She smiled. “Me too.”

For a while, they were silent, huddled together beneath the blanket, watching the rest of the sun disappear.

It started when Taly gave a soft sigh. Skye held her tighter.

She nestled closer, and he kissed her head. Then her temple. Her cheek.

She turned, and he caught the corner of her mouth.

Her fingers curled in the fabric of his coat, pulling him closer as he cupped her face. Her mouth opened, and his tongue slid in.

The bond rejoiced at their reunion. Everywhere she touched him, everything in him answered—muscle, breath, need. His body began to sing.

His hand slid up her spine before he could stop it, fingers finding the nape of her neck, tangling in her hair. A shiver ran through her, and something low and hungry in him answered.

The world shrank to the space between them, filled only with warmth and breath. The swing creaked as he dragged her closer—and she let him, shifting to straddle his hips.

His pulse slammed.

The blanket slipped from her shoulders, but Skye barely noticed. He was drowning in her. The scent of jasmine and smoke. The way her body fit against his like they’d been carved to match.

“Em,” she whispered.

His name, soft and breathless, from that mouth—he kissed her rougher, deeper, chasing the echo of it on her tongue.

She met him with equal heat, yanking him in by the hair. A groan slipped from him as he dragged his hands down her spine, greedy for more of anything she would give him.

Fuck, she felt good. Too good.

His body knew exactly what it wanted—her in his hands, under him, bare and breathless.

He should stop this. The longer he let it go on, the harder it would be to pull away.

But then she rolled her hips.

Another groan ripped from him. The swing lurched. His fingers flexed against her hips, hard enough that if she had any sense, she’d shove him off.

She didn’t.

She only pressed closer.

Then her teeth caught his bottom lip, and Skye saw stars.

Pull back. Stop. Now . Before he forgot why he needed to.

Instead, his grip tightened. His mouth crushed against hers, desperate now, messy. One hand tangled in her hair, the other slid to her hip, gripping hard as she rocked against him. He matched her rhythm, pulling her tighter, holding her there so he could feel every slow grind.

He was right at the edge—of control, of reason, of whatever line he’d sworn not to cross.

He tore himself away, breath ragged.

“What’s wrong?” Taly asked.

Everything.

But what came out was: “Nothing.”

She tried to tug him back in.

“It’s getting cold,” he murmured, though cold had nothing to do with it. If anything, the night air felt good against his skin—he was burning, restless, desperate to tear away every layer between them. “We should go back inside.”

“I’m not cold.” She pressed closer, her warmth bleeding into him, her scent dizzying.

He went still. If she knew how little blood was reaching his brain right now, she wouldn’t be testing him like this.

She waited for him to move. To respond.

He didn’t.

Her hands loosened around his neck. “… Skye?”

Her voice was quieter now, something unreadable curling at the edges.

He swallowed hard. Speech required thinking, and thinking required circulation. “Look, I’m just… I’m trying not to be an asshole, and you’re not making it easy.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s… hard to explain.”

“ Try .”

He met her gaze, willing her to understand. To drop it. “It’s just—things are complicated right now, and I need to—”

“Need to what?” Her voice sharpened.

Shit.

Abort. Backtrack. Try again.

“Taly, I didn’t mean—”

“No,” she cut in, pulling away. “No, I get it. It’s not me, it’s you, right? You need time to sort things out .”

She exhaled, refusing to meet his gaze as she shifted, intending to move away from him.

It was what he needed—space to think, to breathe.

It felt like hell.

And that look—like she thought he didn’t want her. Like she couldn’t feel it in his hands, his mouth, all of him. He hated that look.

His hand caught her jaw, pulling her back. His mouth found hers.

Just a kiss. Just this.

He could take that much—pretend it was enough.

For a moment, it was.

Then the bond twisted, searing through him, clawing at every nerve, every breath, every thought that wasn’t her.

His body chased it, tilting toward more, toward everything.

He broke away, breathless and dizzy.

Then for good measure, he rose with her in his arms and set her back on the swing. He put as much space between them as the garden would give him. It still wasn’t enough. The bond yanked at him like a tether hooked into his ribs, trying to drag him back.

Taly’s eyes were wide. Then they narrowed. “I knew it,” she said, voice dripping with soft accusation. “You are having second thoughts.”

“ No ,” he said immediately, but she shook her head.

“Then what the hell was that?”

Skye opened his mouth. Shut it again.

He needed the gift to tell her. But the gift was inside.

Fuck.

“Is it because I fell asleep?” she asked sharply.

“No, although that—”

“Are you bored with me already?”

“ No —”

“I knew this was a mistake.”

Oh no…

“You’re being weird, and it’s making me weird, and I don’t like being weird, Skye. It’s not a good look on me.”

Shit, this was going in a direction he hadn’t anticipated.

“Seriously, just be honest with me. Are you having second thoughts?”

“ No ,” he said, willing her to believe him. “If we could just go inside.”

He’d left the mating gift inside . Like an idiot.

Taly snarled, shoving off the swing. She stalked to the stone half-wall circling the rooftop. “You do realize what this looks like.”

“Not… really.”

“And the more you push back, the more it makes me think there’s something horrible you’re not telling me?” Her eyes snapped to his. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He couldn’t make himself say nothing —because that wasn’t entirely true.

“What is it, Skylen?”

“Nothing bad, I pr—”

“So, there is something then.”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

And now she was angry—looking more pissed off by the second.

He’d come up to comfort her. How had he become the bad guy?

“Look…” Skye dragged his hands over his face. “It’s– That is– We’re bonded!”

Fuck it.

“You’re my bondmate, and I’m yours, and that’s why I didn’t want you to think— that is, I thought it was important for you to know before we…”

A vague, helpless gesture.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to. I did. I do . It’s just…” He looked at her, defeated. “We’re bonded,” he ended lamely.

In his head, he saw that going differently. There was supposed to be a speech. Maybe candles. Some kind of food offering.

Taly didn’t say a word, just stared at him, wide-eyed and unmoving.

The silence stretched. Was she angry? Disgusted? Had he completely ruined everything?

“After you left Ebondrift,” he explained, because obviously, more words were a good idea right now, “I started having these dreams. Your dreams. It’s how I knew you were still alive.”

Taly crossed her arms over her body. “You were in my dreams,” she said, voice too quiet.

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t think to mention this sooner?”

“I was trying to—”

“Did you do it on purpose?”

“What? No, I—”

“Because that seems like a gross breach of my privacy, Skye.”

“Taly, if you would just let me explain—”

“Not to mention my trust .”

“Oh, and you’re one to talk about trust!” The words snapped out before he could stop them.

Taly’s brows shot up.

“I’m sorry,” he added quickly. He took a deep breath to steady himself. Women didn’t typically like to be chastised, and the rest of his forever was sort of hinging on this moment. “You did hear the part where I said we were bonded, right? You see, with the Fey, their souls can reach—”

“I know what a soul bond is, Skylen.”

This was not going well.

“I’m not explaining it right.” He paced a short, tight circle. He was supposed to be smooth, charming, irresistible. Instead, he felt like a tongue-tied idiot. “Look, Tink, I… I had a plan to tell you about all of… this. It was a good plan—an okay plan. I was still working out the kinks.”

He exhaled sharply, somewhere between a growl and a curse. “Please, if we could just—”

A sob burst from her, and Taly clapped a hand to her mouth.

No, not a sob—a laugh .

Her eyes finally flicked to his, bright and shining.

Great. Now, she was laughing at him. And there must’ve been something in his expression—pure bewilderment—because she took one look at his face and laughed harder.

“I’m glad one of us thinks this is funny,” Skye muttered. “Don’t worry about me. All my hopes and dreams are just crumbling all around me.”

“I’m sorry,” Taly said, gasping between bursts of laughter. “It’s not funny. It’s not—” But she snorted, halfway doubled over as she wheezed, “Except that it is. It’s really funny, actually. And I think this may be the part where I need to tell you that I… already know.”