Page 52 of Knot Your Sugar Rush (Starling Grove #2)

Chapter fifty-two

Dane

I don’t move for a moment after she says my name. It’s quiet enough that I can hear the faint hiss of the fire settling in the hearth, the way the wind presses against the walls outside. She’s looking right at me, her eyes clear but shadowed by what I know it’s costing her to say the words.

I nod once. “Alright.” My voice is steady. It has to be.

The other two stay still—Theo with his arms folded, Jamie leaning forward, both of them holding themselves in check.

I can feel it though, that pulse of protectiveness running through all three of us.

It’s not possessive. It’s not about pride.

It’s that we all want the same thing—for her to be safe, to make it through this without fear.

I get to my feet slowly. No sudden movements, nothing that might feel like I’m closing in too fast. Her scent is laced with heat, faint but unmistakable, curling around my senses and tugging at instincts I’ve been holding down since the first hint of it.

My body knows what it wants. My head knows better than to rush her.

The safehouse floor creaks under my boots as I cross the room. It’s warmer near the fire, and warmer still near her.

“Do you want to stay here or move to the bedroom?” I ask quietly. If needed, even Jamie will move outside. This is her call, entirely.

Her breath catches. “Bedroom.”

I give her space, offering my hand without pushing it toward her. She takes it after a moment, her fingers cool but trembling slightly in mine.

Theo moves first, disappearing into the other room.

I hear the low thump of him shifting blankets, probably making sure everything’s set and her nest is comfortable.

He brings in extra water. Jamie stays where he is, watching us, jaw tight.

He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes follow every step I take.

Once Theo is settled, we turn toward the bedroom, the air cooling as we leave the fire behind. The bedroom’s small but cleaner than most places we’ve sheltered—fresh blankets piled high on the bed, the air faintly scented with the herbs Theo tucked under the pillow to help her relax.

I’m not assuming I know the type of help she needs, though I know what I’m hoping for. This isn’t’ about me.

“Do you want me to stay inside with you, or just outside the door?” I ask, keeping my voice even.

Her throat works before she answers. “Inside. Please.”

The word please hits me harder than it should.

She climbs onto the bed, curling into the blankets. The fire in the main room throws just enough light down the hall to cast a faint glow over her hair. She looks up at me, and something in my chest shifts.

I sit down on the edge of the mattress, far enough away not to crowd her, close enough that if she reaches for me, she’ll find me.

“You’re safe, Cam,” I tell her, and I mean every word. “We’ll keep it that way.”

There’s a pause—soft, fragile—and then she exhales like she’s been holding her breath for hours. The sound settles into my bones.

“Dane,” she says, and I understand.

“Want me to hold you?” I ask.

Her gaze flicks up to mine, and she nods. “Yes.”

That’s all it takes for me to wrap my arms around her, pulling her gently into my chest. She’s warm, soft, her heartbeat quick under my hand where it rests at her back.

She fits against me like she belongs there, but I keep my touch respectful—just enough pressure to let her know I’m here, that she’s not alone in this.

For a while, we just breathe. My chin rests near her hair, catching that shifting edge to her scent—heat threading deeper now, spiced and sweet in a way that’s pulling at every instinct I have. I hold the line, locking my muscles against the urge to tighten my arms, to pull her even closer.

Then her breathing changes. It’s subtle at first, but it makes my pulse jump.

“I wanted you,” she says, voice low but certain, “because I know you’ll take control. And right now… that’s what I need.”

Her words hit me like a match dropped on dry tinder. My instincts surge forward, fierce and certain, but I force myself to check her eyes. “You’re sure? You know what you’re asking?”

“Yes.”

That single word snaps the leash inside me. The alpha in me answers without hesitation. I tilt her chin up with my knuckles, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks, the soft parting of her lips, the heat in her gaze.

“I want to taste all of you,” I murmur, the promise rough in my throat.

Her breath catches, and she doesn’t look away.

I can already feel my control shifting, reshaping, sharpening into something that will keep her safe while giving her exactly what she needs.