Page 19

KEIRA

K eira lay still in the aftermath, tangled in sweat-slick sheets, her body purring with the kind of exhaustion that blurred the line between satisfaction and shock.

Emotion twisted through her chest, thick and knotted—too tangled to name.

A fragile warmth lingered in her limbs, but it battled a tide of uncertainty rising like a slow wave.

The air smelled like sex and salt and something older, deeper.

Her mind spun, replaying every word, every touch, trying to understand where lust ended and something terrifyingly real began.

Her limbs felt boneless, her breath shallow, her mind a tangle of pleasure, disbelief, and something dangerously close to longing.

The echo of his touch haunted her skin, and beneath the quiet, a storm brewed in her chest—part exhilaration, part dread.

Her skin still tingled where his hands had gripped her, where his mouth had pressed and claimed. Her breath came shallow, uneven, her pulse racing beneath her skin like a drumbeat she couldn’t control.

What had she done?

Her body still hummed with aftershocks, but guilt crept in around the edges, insidious and cold.

She’d crossed a line—one drawn in blood and betrayal, and now smeared in sweat and satisfaction.

She’d let him back in, let herself burn in his arms when she should’ve run.

Her thoughts battled the warmth still lingering in her limbs, her mind yanking against the leash of reason.

This wasn’t just about lust. It never had been.

Her mind scrambled for rational ground, some firm explanation she could cling to.

A lapse in judgment. A release of pressure.

A moment of weakness. But none of them fit.

Because it hadn’t been weak. It had been everything she’d been holding back and everything she’d been afraid to want.

It had been primal, yes—but also heartbreakingly intimate.

He stirred beside her, rolling onto his side and brushing a kiss to her shoulder—a soft, lingering press of lips that carried more weight than she'd expected. The heat of his breath ghosted across her skin, sending a ripple down her spine. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was grounding, intimate, as though he was anchoring her to him without words.

Keira’s breath caught in her throat, and she closed her eyes, startled by how much she felt in so simple a touch.

The warmth of his lips lingered, a gentle brush that sent a shiver down her spine.

It wasn’t just the touch—it was the weight of it, tender and possessive, like a promise whispered against her skin.

Her breath hitched, and her eyes fluttered shut, betraying the storm still churning inside her.

A low hum of satisfaction rumbled in his chest, and it rolled through her like another kind of touch.

She swallowed hard.

“You okay?” His voice was rough, still half-feral.

Keira kept her eyes on the ceiling. “Do I look okay?”

He propped himself up on one elbow, brushing her hair back with the kind of care that was more dangerous than his teeth. “You look flushed. Sated. Sexy as hell.”

She shot him a sideways glare, the corner of her mouth twitching with a mix of warning and lingering tension. "I’m serious, Finn," she said, her voice low, caught between exasperation and something she wasn’t ready to name.

“So am I.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple. “But I get it. You’re in your head. Talk to me.”

Keira pushed herself upright, dragging the sheet with her, suddenly needing the barrier between them. Her heart thudded dully against her ribs as she stared at the fireplace, watching the last embers flicker and fade like the remnants of sanity.

"It doesn’t make sense," she murmured. "One second I wanted to punch you, the next I was... letting you crawl into my bones." Her voice cracked on the last word, shame and hunger tangled in her chest.

He moved behind her, letting out a breath through his nose, irritation flickering just beneath his steady tone. A firm hand settled on her lower back, grounding them both. “That wasn’t just about sex. You know it. So do I.”

“I don’t know what it was. I just know it scared the shit out of me.”

His hand moved up, slow and sure, to tangle in her hair. Not yanking. Just holding. “Because it’s real. Because it still matters.”

Keira closed her eyes. “It’s not supposed to. Not anymore.”

“That’s a lie you keep telling yourself, love. But your body doesn’t lie.”

Her breath caught, her pulse hitching sharply, and she hated how right he was.

The truth settled over her like a net—inescapable, tightening with every beat of her heart.

Resistance sparked behind her ribs, flaring hot, then sinking fast into the tangle of longing twisting tighter in her chest. She wanted to shove him away, to claw back the walls she’d built so carefully.

But her body refused to move, sunk deep into the warmth of him, traitorous and craving.

Her limbs stayed heavy, her nerves alight, betraying every ounce of control she tried to hold.

When he lowered her back down onto the pillows, she melted into them, pliant but trembling.

His lips traced the line of her spine in slow, reverent passes, igniting goosebumps in their wake.

When his hand slid beneath the sheet and found the lingering heat between her thighs, she gasped, her hips lifting in response, not with reason, but with need—fierce, helpless, and unbidden.

Her body betrayed the conflict in her mind, rising into his touch with aching urgency.

“You’re thinking too much,” he whispered against her skin. “Let me remind you how this feels.”

This time was different. Slower. Less a storm, more a seduction.

He kissed every inch of her like he was reclaiming it—her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, the soft skin beneath her breasts.

Worship and possession twisted together as his mouth roamed her neck, her shoulders, the small of her back, and lower still.

As he reached her thighs, he gently parted them with utmost care.

Feeling his breath on her skin, she shuddered when his tongue touched her wetness.

Her hips jerked in response, a gasp escaping her lips.

He groaned against her, the vibrations traveling through her core as he licked and teased her clit—first softly, then more forcefully.

She gripped the sheets, head thrown back, thighs trembling.

He devoured her as if she belonged to him, eliciting moan after moan, making her convulse under his skilled mouth. When she could no longer hold back, she came with a cry that signaled both relief and submission.

Finn flipped her onto her stomach gently but assertively. He guided her hips into position as she lay face down on the bed. Her arms stretched above her head, body pliable and hot with anticipation. The silky sheets caressed her skin, the coolness contrasting with her flushed body.

As instinct took over, she spread her thighs, the air heavy with desire. Finn positioned himself behind her. She felt his erection between her legs and knew what was coming next—his presence was both commanding and comforting. Trusting him completely, she let go of control one breath at a time.

He blanketed her body like an unspoken vow.

She felt his lips at the nape of her neck—where instinct overruled reason—and tensed, breathing heavily. "Finn…?"

"Just feel it," he growled as his canines elongated into fangs and he sank them into the nape of her neck.

His teeth grazed the tender skin—not maliciously but definitively—with intent and conviction.

Her breath hitched as electric sparks ignited beneath her skin. The sensation shot through her—an intense wave that elicited a strangled gasp from deep within. Her whole body arched rigidly while quivering uncontrollably as overwhelming passion consumed them both.

A needy moan escaped—as sudden and raw as the feelings enveloping her. Her back arched even more, spine curving, fists gripping the sheets for some semblance of stability amidst the disorienting whirlwind they were both caught in.

An ancient, primal force stirred within her—a surge of raw heat and instinct coursing through her veins, a connection to something greater than herself.

She knew what he'd done. She recognized that unspoken declaration even as her conscious mind shied away from naming it. A claiming. A bond. Whole. Real. Unchangeable.

And she hadn't stopped him—hadn't even protested.

When he entered her from behind, their bodies merged once again with an almost supernatural intensity.

Pain and pleasure collided, setting her nerves ablaze and leaving her breathless in the aftermath of raw sensation.

Her body responded with unrestrained passion, thighs opening further, hips undulating to meet his every thrust.

Thoughts scattered like ashes in a storm, overwhelmed by the potent press of him inside her.

She let out a keening cry, utterly undone by his relentless force.

Logic and reason had no place here—only desire and the need for completion.

She succumbed fully to the carnal needs that drove them both towards ecstasy, embracing the unbridled truth that this man had brought her to the brink of oblivion—and she welcomed it with open arms.

When he rolled from her, he pulled her to him so that their limbs were still entangled and she lay draped across him, her cheek to his chest, listening to the thunder of his heart.

"Tell me that that bite was just some new kink."

He stroked her back, slow and steady. “You know better. You felt it."

"Then tell me you lost control that you didn't mean to..."

"You know better than that. You are my fated mate and I have claimed you.”

She didn’t answer.

He tipped her chin up so she had to meet his eyes. “Say something.”

Her throat was dry. Her voice rough. “Did you plan it or was it instinct?”

His jaw tensed. “I hadn't planned to do it tonight, and the instinct to claim what was denied to me all those years ago didn't help, but I had always meant to make you one with me.”

Her fingers reached around to touch the bite mark. Her skin tingled there, like it buzzed with a low current. “Is it permanent?”

His gaze darkened. “It already is. That bond can’t be undone.”

She didn’t know how to answer that.

So instead, she whispered, “I need water.”

He chuckled, low and lazy, and rolled out of bed. "What you need is a whiskey."

Keira watched him go, still aching, still open, and profoundly adrift.

A part of her longed to call him back, to demand answers and comfort in equal measure, but the rest of her stayed silent—frozen between pride and confusion.

Her body still tingled from his touch, but her heart felt heavy, swamped in uncertainty.

Had she surrendered something vital, reclaimed something long denied or had it been taken from her? She didn’t know. Couldn’t know. He’d left her there, raw and unraveling, wondering if she’d just stepped toward redemption—or ruin.

Then came the soft thud at the window—a low, dull impact that snapped her thoughts in half.

It sounded too deliberate to be random, too close to be coincidence.

Her breath stilled in her lungs as adrenaline surged, her nerves lighting up in warning.

The noise vibrated against her skin, sharp and cold, making the hairs on her arms rise as a sense of wrongness settled heavy in the pit of her stomach.

There was a low, muffled sound that cut through the silence.

It wasn’t loud, but it carried weight. Her breath caught, and a chill raced up her spine, the primal part of her brain snapping to attention. Something was out there.

She turned.

A shadow moved outside. Too fast to be wind. Too still to be natural.

She rose slowly, wrapping herself in the previously discarded robe.

Outside, something waited. Keira's breath stuttered as her gaze locked onto the shifting silhouette just beyond the windowpane. The hairs on her arms rose beneath the robe, her instincts screaming a warning her mind couldn’t place. She couldn’t make out what it was—just that it was there.