Page 17 of Monsters Carve Thrones

“Next time,” I said, shifting to look down at him, “I’m climbing a tree.”

His eyes lit up. “You should. I’ll chase you up it. Rip you down. Fuck you against the bark.”

I snorted. “You’re an animal.”

“You married one, sweetheart.”

I rolled my eyes but leaned in and kissed him anyway. He kissed me back, all teasing gone, one hand threading into my hair, the other curling possessively around my waist.

Taken, owned, and fuckingloved.

Chapter 4

The ocean had become a sound I craved. Well, that and Rafe’s groans. Salt, sun, and him. That’s what the island had been made of. We barely wore clothes, only when expecting staff to bring meals or drinks. He hadn’t let me walk straight since day two.

Rafe had been insatiable, waking me with his mouth, bending me over balcony railings, and taking me in the ocean with the waves crashing against our backs. He’d tasted every inch of my skin, again and again, until I forgot how to breathe without him.

But now... our honeymoon was over.

The jet cut through clouds like it had a vendetta against the sky. I sat curled in the buttery leather seat, legs tucked beneath me, wearing one of Rafe’s T-shirts and spandex shorts. My thighs were still sore. He’d smiled smugly when I winced getting up the steps onto the plane.

He was stretched across from me, wearing a black button-down with sleeves rolled to his elbows. One hand curled around a glass of whiskey, and the other traced slow, lazy patterns along my ankle. His fingers were warm and possessive, as if he were still reminding me that I was his.

“I think I’ll sleep for a week,” I murmured, shifting to lean my head against the window. “You broke me.”

He grinned around the rim of his glass, eyes flashing over the top of it. “You look just fine to me. Maybe a little fucked stupid, but I like that on you.”

I rolled my eyes, but warmth bloomed low in my belly. Damn, I wanted him again already.

He reached forward and tugged me closer, pulling my legs into his lap. “When we land,” he said, softer now, “we’ll take a day or two to recover. Then we’ll tour the townhouse.”

The townhouse.

My stomach fluttered, and it definitely wasn’t from the plane. The idea of having our own place together made everything seem… so official. Sure, we weremarried, buta house?

His thumb rubbed circles into the inside of my calf. “Well,ourtownhouse, if you like it.”

Ours.

I blinked, letting it settle–not just the space, but the promise of something we could grow into. A life. A home. A future that bore our names and our essence. As husband and wife. As partners in crime–literal and otherwise. We’d weathered more than most, and there were days I questioned my own sanity for staying after what he’d done. But pulling a wild creature from a cruel world doesn’t tame it overnight. It takes patience. Compassion. Time. And I’ve seen that slow unraveling in Rafe. He was all sharp edges and snarled instinctonce… and now, though the wild still lingers, it no longer rules him. Not entirely. Not with me.

“Are you nervous?” I asked quietly, voice barely above the hum of the jet.

Rafe tilted his head. “About what?”

I shrugged, mouth twisting into a half-smile. “Living together. In a normal setting. No bullets. No sand. Just… a fridge and furniture and your socks on the floor.”

He laughed, and it cracked something open in my chest. “I’ve already lived without you,” he said, brushing his hand over my knee. “And that was the worst thing.”

Goddamn him.

I leaned over and kissed him. When I pulled back, his eyes were softer. They were still dark and wild, but something inside them glowed like a match struck in the dark. “I want it to be good,” I whispered. “Whatever comes next.”

“It will be,” he said with no hesitation. “Because I’ll do anything to make everything right.”

I smiled, resting my cheek on his chest. Outside, clouds drifted past like an ocean in the sky.

***