Page 7

CHAPTER

SEVEN

I don’t like the plan. In fact, I bloody hate it.

Letting some random monster go to Solan’s to find and fetch Jamie is not something I can get on board with. “He’s my responsibility,” I grit out for likely the hundredth time since we’ve been led to a room that will be ours while we stay here. And just like the other ninety-nine times, Solan stares down at me with nothing but patience and understanding.

“I understand, but this is safer for Jamie.”

Struth, when he puts it like that, I’m the dickhead. With my jaw still tense, I grumble, “I don’t like anything about this plan.”

“I know.”

The arsehole, who is absolutely not an arsehole—but I need to believe he is in this moment so that guilt doesn’t eat me alive—reaches for me and grips the back of my neck.

Every time he does that, I almost melt, my muscles immediately relaxing. It’s at complete odds with the desire that unfurls in my gut. It’s not the time or the place, not when I’m going to have to trust monsters to protect my nephew.

“Tahrionne is strong. A protector. He can also be trusted. He will take Calythra with him, another young one similar to Jamie. Your nephew will be safe.”

I reluctantly nod, understanding the plan despite my fear.

Tahrionne has been given my watch—something my sister had got engraved for my thirtieth birthday from Jamie. Time spent as an uncle is time well cherished. Needless to say, my sister knew what she was doing—reminding me that I had a family out west and that Brisbane was just a pit stop. But the watch is intended to reassure Jamie that I’m the one who sent them to protect him.

While Tahrionne can’t speak English well—or at all—Calythra can. He’s also a warrior in training, and from what I could gather, he’s more of a teenager than another child. Should they be stopped—though Harith reassures me Tahrionne is the master of stealth and covering his tracks, so it’ll be unlikely—they’ll say Jamie, like Calythra, is Tahrionne’s apprentice.

“Can I meet him? See?” Discomfort settles in my chest. Calythra isn’t a show pony, but I’m trusting these monsters with Jamie. And fuck if he’s not the single most important person in my world. I love him fiercely. I already met Tahrionne, and while he looked appropriately menacing, his eyes were filled with a kindness that made me instinctively trust him.

“Of course,” Harith answers. He’s stayed out of the conversation, allowing Solan to take the reins and offer me reassurance and comfort. He leaves the room with a nod while I wait, body vibrating with tension that’s likely going to buckle my knees.

“I hate this,” I whisper, more to myself than anything, but Solan hears, his palm that’s still on my neck shifting slightly as he draws one of his large fingers up and down the column of my neck, passing over my pulse with each swipe.

“What do you hate, Jack?” Concern pulses from him, a hint of a tone that manages to let me know if I told him and he could fix any of my pain, he’d do so in a heartbeat.

I’ve long since passed questioning the calming power he has over me or the way he lights up my body. All I find now is comfort rather than questions. Too much has happened and too much is at stake for me to waste time hemming and hawing over my reaction to the large red monster who offers me reassurance that simply feels right. Natural.

“Feeling so out of control. Feeling inept.” I meet his golden gaze. “Relying solely on you while giving you nothing in return.”

His gentle stroking stops, just for one beat, before he starts it up again. This time he steps closer—so close, I have to angle my neck to peer up at him. Bloody hell, this close, his scent wraps around me like the fragrance of the first drops of rain on parched earth, fresh and intoxicating. My breath stutters, and I feel that ridiculous pull again—the one that makes me want to close the space between us, to touch him, to taste him. My stomach flips, and I swallow hard, forcing myself to look away, but it’s no use. His golden eyes seem to tug me back, grounding me and scattering my thoughts all at once.

“You give me more than you realise,” Solan says, his voice low and rich like the promise of safety in the middle of chaos.

I laugh softly, bitterly. “Like what? A headache?”

His lips twitch, not quite a smile, but close. “Trust. Hope. A reason.” His hand tightens slightly on my neck, a gentle squeeze that makes my pulse jump. “You are more than you think, Jack. To me. To Jamie. To yourself.”

The intensity in his gaze makes me dizzy, and I suddenly feel like the air between us is charged, heavy with something I can’t quite name. My heart pounds as his eyes drop— to my mouth .

I can’t move. Hell, I’m not sure I want to move. My breath catches as he leans down so close, I can feel the heat radiating from him, his lips almost brushing mine?—

“Am I interrupting?”

The voice snaps through the moment like a whip, and I stumble back a step, heat flooding my face. Solan’s hand falls away slowly, but his gaze lingers, his expression unreadable.

Harith strides back in, Calythra—I assume—following close behind. My stomach knots at the sight of the new monster.

Calythra’s young—definitely a teenager in human terms—but there’s a confidence in his posture that’s unnerving. His features are humanoid but ethereal, his skin so white, it’s nearly translucent, veins barely visible beneath the surface. His eyes are a startling, vivid blue, impossibly large and framed by thick lashes.

“Jack,” Harith says, his tone formal, “this is Calythra.”

Calythra’s grin widens. “G’day,” he says, and I blink, startled by the pitch-perfect Australian accent.

I narrow my eyes, wondering how the hell he’s mirrored my accent so perfectly. “You’re taking the piss.”

“Not at all,” he says, still grinning, his voice a perfect mimic of my own cadence. “Thought I’d give it a go. Figured you might feel more at ease hearing something familiar.”

I’m torn between being impressed and annoyed. “That’s… unsettling.”

“Good,” he replies cheerfully. “Keeps you on your toes.”

Before I can reply, something startling happens—his skin begins to shift. The pale, translucent white darkens, deepening to the same iridescent red as Solan’s. The change is fluid, mesmerising, like watching liquid fire ripple under his skin.

“Pretty neat, eh?” Calythra says, holding his arms out to show off the transformation. His expression is light, playful, and there’s an undeniable pride in his tone.

My breath catches as he steps closer, extending a hand towards me. I hesitate, and he chuckles, his tone somehow both amused and patient. “Relax, mate. I’m not going to hurt you. Look.” He presses his hand to his own chest, and the colour spreads like water on blotting paper before returning to normal.

Tentatively, I extend my arm. His touch is warm, not uncomfortably so, but the change is immediate. My skin flushes red where his fingers make contact, the vivid hue spreading outwards until my entire forearm matches his.

“What the hell?” I pull back instinctively, staring wide-eyed at my arm.

Calythra laughs, a light, airy sound. “Magic, mate. Or close enough.”

“It’s not magic,” Solan says, his voice calm but firm. “It’s a biological adaptation unique to Calythra’s species. His body can mimic his surroundings, and he can share that ability with others temporarily.”

“Temporarily?” I glance between them, still unsettled by the sight of my own red skin.

Calythra nods. “It’ll fade. Could make it last longer if I wanted to, but that takes effort. Don’t worry, mate , you’re not stuck like that.”

Sure enough, as I watch, the colour begins to fade, my skin returning to its normal tone. His own skin shifts back to its original translucent state, the change just as seamless as before.

I glance at Solan. “This is who you’re sending to protect Jamie?”

“I’m flattered you’re sceptical,” Calythra says, his grin widening again. “Don’t let the looks fool you. I might appear young, but I’m more than capable.”

“You’re what? A teenager?”

“Close enough,” he replies with a shrug. “But I’ve been training since before you were born. Don’t let the baby-face trip you up.”

“Baby-face?” I mutter under my breath, still trying to wrap my head around him.

Calythra leans closer, his big blue eyes unblinking, and I fight the urge to step back. “You don’t trust me yet. That’s okay. But I’m telling you now, Jack, Jamie’s going to be just fine with me. And Tahrionne? He’s a ghost when he wants to be. We’ll get your kid and keep him safe. Promise.”

There’s an odd sincerity in his tone that catches me off-guard. Despite his playful demeanour, there’s a sharpness to him, a confidence that feels earned rather than forced. And his English? I have no idea how he speaks it so well, but it’s impressive.

“Why are you so sure you can handle this?” I ask, my voice quieter, more serious.

Calythra tilts his head, considering the question. “Because this isn’t my first rodeo.” I blink that he even knows the term rodeo . “And because I care. More than you’d think. Kids like Jamie? They deserve to grow up, to have a shot at life without worrying about the likes of the royal guard breathing down their necks. I’m not just doing this because Harith told me to. I’m doing this because it’s the right thing to do.”

I’m struck silent, the tension in my chest easing just slightly.

Calythra claps his hands together suddenly, breaking the moment. “Right, then. Let’s get this show on the road. Got a kid to save, yeah?”

Harith nods, his expression calm but approving. “You’re ready.”

“Born ready,” Calythra replies, his grin flashing one last time before he turns to leave the room.

As the door closes behind him, I glance at Solan, my chest tightening with a mix of hope and fear. “You really think they can do it?”

“Yes,” Solan says simply, his golden gaze steady. “And so should you.”

His hand finds the back of my neck again, his touch grounding me, but my thoughts are still with Jamie—and with the strange, confident monster who just might be his best chance. “You’re exhausted,” he murmurs.

I let out a shaky laugh. “Adrenaline crash,” I admit.

He pulls me gently towards the cot in the corner of the room, his golden gaze soft. “Rest, Jack. We will protect him. I promise.”

And somehow, as his warmth surrounds me, I almost believe him. It’s not enough to stop the dread from swirling in my gut, but it does something to settle me.

“I don’t think I can sleep.” My voice sounds brittle, like it might shatter under the weight of my guilt. Jamie’s out there, alone, and the idea of me getting a full night’s rest feels like the ultimate betrayal.

“Then don’t,” he says simply, his tone calm but resolute.

He sits down first, the mattress creaking slightly under his weight. It’s not plush, not even close to comfortable, but it might as well be a throne with the way Solan carries himself—calm, deliberate, present. He tugs me down beside him, and I follow without resistance, though I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe it’s exhaustion, or maybe it’s the pull he has over me, that ever-present gravity that keeps me tethered when everything else feels like it’s slipping away.

“What can I do to make this easier while we wait?” he asks, his voice low, his gaze steady.

The question hangs in the air between us, heavy and unspoken. My mind betrays me, flashing with images that have no business surfacing right now—his mouth on mine, his strong grip on parts of me I can’t even acknowledge without blushing. Desire stirs, hot and unwelcome, but it refuses to be ignored.

I glance at him, and the intensity of his gaze almost undoes me. He’s watching me with such focus, such quiet attentiveness, that it’s like he can see straight through me. It’s too much and not enough all at once.

“Stay,” I whisper before I can stop myself.

He stills. The hand that was brushing against mine pauses, and for a moment, I’m afraid I’ve crossed some invisible line. But then I feel it—a pulse, an energy that radiates from him like heat from a flame, subtle and warm but unmistakably alive. It dances over my skin, leaving a trail of awareness in its wake.

“I will stay,” he says, his voice quieter now, more intimate. His fingers find my pulse point at the side of my neck, the touch electric. My vein leaps under his hand, and there’s no way he doesn’t feel it.

He leans in slightly, his golden gaze locking onto mine. “And what else do you need from me?” he asks, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “You can have anything that I have to give.”

There’s a fierceness in his eyes that makes me swallow hard, a promise that feels too big to comprehend. And suddenly, I can’t think. All I can do is feel—his touch, his presence, the sheer intensity of him.

Fuck it. I want him.

Without a word, I move, instinct overriding hesitation. I swing a leg over his lap, straddling him in one fluid motion. His eyes widen, and for a split second, I think I’ve surprised him. But he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his hands hover at my sides, hesitant, almost reverent.

“Touch me,” I say, my voice shaking with a mix of nerves and raw need.

He doesn’t hesitate this time. His hands settle on my waist, large and warm, and then they move up my back, trailing heat wherever they go. A soft, involuntary moan escapes me, and I press closer, feeling the hard planes of his chest beneath me.

His hair shifts, the strands brushing against my arms like they’re alive and responding to me. When they rest against my skin, it’s like a circuit is completed, and I inhale sharply, the connection startling in its intimacy. The scent of him fills my lungs—earthy, warm, uniquely him—and it’s like breathing for the first time.

“Do your people…?” I trail off, embarrassment creeping up my neck as I stumble over the words. “Do you use your mouths to…?”

He tilts his head slightly, his expression curious but patient. “To make love?” he finishes for me, his voice soft.

“Yes.” I exhale sharply, trying to ground myself. “That. But also this.” I press my fingers to his mouth, then mine. “Kiss.”

Understanding dawns in his gaze, followed by something almost shy. “Yes,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “But only with those who belong to our soul.”

His words hit me like a punch to the chest. Horror and guilt slam into me, and I start to pull back, ashamed of how recklessly I’ve been throwing myself at him. But before I can retreat, his hands tighten on me, keeping me in place.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Solan says softly, his deep voice vibrating through me. His gaze is locked on mine, fierce but vulnerable, and it’s like he’s offering me every part of himself in that single moment.

My breath hitches, my pulse racing under his hand. I can’t think, can’t hesitate. The words tear through my chest, their impact cracking something open inside me. I surge forwards and slam my mouth against his, my fingers gripping his jaw, his neck, desperate to anchor myself to him.

His lips are soft, impossibly warm, and their heat spreads through me like wildfire. The first touch is almost too much—a shock to my system, a jolt that leaves me gasping against him. But he doesn’t pull back. His hands tighten on my waist, dragging me closer, and suddenly it’s not enough. I press harder, threading my fingers into his hair, the silken strands wrapping around my hands and my forearms as though holding me in place.

His mouth moves against mine, hesitant at first, as though testing uncharted territory. But the hesitation doesn’t last. He learns fast—too fast. His lips part, and his forked tongue brushes mine, tentative and careful, and I swear I shatter. A broken sound escapes me, part moan, part whimper, and the way he responds—growling low in his throat as he pulls me impossibly closer—makes my head spin.

The kiss is consuming, every part of him overwhelming my senses. His heat seeps into me, his scent filling my lungs with every breath. It’s grounding and dizzying all at once, like standing on the edge of a cliff and feeling both the fear of falling and the thrill of flight.

The connection between us is electric, his energy pulsing over my skin in waves that leave me trembling. It feels like he’s everywhere—his hands roaming my back, his hair curling around my arms, his mouth devouring mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. I press my fingers into his shoulders, hard muscle shifting under my touch, and the strength of him only pulls me deeper into the moment.

I’ve never been kissed like this before—never felt so completely undone by the press of someone’s lips. It’s not just a kiss; it’s an unspoken promise, a claiming, a merging of something far deeper than just physical desire. I feel exposed, laid bare, and yet somehow, I don’t care.

Solan pulls back, just enough to let me catch my breath. His forehead rests against mine, his golden eyes searching, his chest heaving as though the kiss left him as wrecked as it left me.

“I don’t think I can stop,” he admits, his voice low and rough, his gaze flicking to my lips as though already drawn back to them.

“Don’t,” I whisper, my own voice trembling, my lips brushing his as I speak. “Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t need further encouragement. He crashes his mouth back onto mine, and this time, there’s no hesitation. He kisses me like he’s starving, like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life, and I lose myself in him, every rational thought drowned out by the sheer intensity of him.

When we finally break apart, I’m breathless, my body trembling, my head spinning. I can’t form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. All I can do is stare at him, still clutching his hair, my chest rising and falling as I try to process what just happened.

His lips are swollen, his hair dishevelled, and his gaze is fixed on me with a single-mindedness that makes my heart stutter.

“I didn’t know it could feel like this,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

His smile is small and genuine, and the sight of it sends a fresh wave of heat through me. “Neither did I,” he admits.

For a moment, the weight of the world fades, and there’s only him—only us. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel something close to peace.

“Now you rest.”

“Huh?” Rest? Now? After I almost came in my pants from simply kissing? But fuck if there is anything “simple” about what just happened between us.

“Yes, my bonded needs to sleep.”

Bonded . The words from his earlier explanation about soul mates slam into me. And just a few moments ago, he mentioned his soul. I freeze on top of him, eyes widening at the absurdity, at the fucking rightness of his words and everything happening between us.

How is this even possible?

“How can you be mine?” The question spills out with a softness that belies the rush of emotions I’m struggling to contain. My brows shoot high as another thought hits me. “What if the merge had never happened? What if I’d never come here?”

Jesus. My heart aches when I say it aloud. The suddenness of everything doesn’t make sense to my human brain, but I feel everything. Feel the rightness, the certainty, the truth.

“There would never be a life where we wouldn’t have found our way to each other.” Solan cups my cheek, reverence in his tone and the gentleness of his touch. “We have a lot to discuss, to learn.”

No fucking shit. I nod rather than spout off.

“But for now, you really must rest.”

I don’t fight the roll of my eyes even as I remain on his lap, idly wondering what, if anything, he has under his leather kilt. “I don’t think I have to do anything.” Amusement colours my words—that and a clear tone letting him know that it’s been a long damn time since someone told me to go to bed.

He searches my gaze, his strong hands settling on my back. “ I need to rest.” There’s no doubt each word is deliberate. Crafty fucker. “I ran far today.”

I narrow my gaze. Not only is he crafty, but he’s a manipulative arsehole too. I hold back my lip twitch, liking this side of his character.

“Tomorrow, we should have Jamie. He’s going to need the two of us, and then we work out what to do next.”

“Fucking hell,” I murmur with a shake of my head. “You don’t play fair.”

“I will do anything within my power to make sure you and Jamie are safe. For now, that means resting.” He angles towards me but hesitates.

“What?” I ask, already breathless from our closeness and the thought of his mouth on mine again.

“We will sleep, and I want to hold you.”

“O-kay?” I say slowly, not seeing the problem here.

“The… urge for more is hard to ignore.”

The hardness prodding at my arse makes it clear he’s not exaggerating. My own cock is so rigid, I’m not sure if the imprint in my jeans will ever fade.

“There is more to our bonding, but it will take time.”

My brain misfires. “What do you mean, take time?” Bloody hell. “Is there some sort of blood-exchange voodoo shit we have to do?” Not going to lie, I’ll totally do it, but still, I’d prefer a satisfying ride of his cock.

Solan’s nose scrunches. “I do not know voodoo shit.”

A huff of laughter escapes me, drawing a wide, beautiful smile over Solan’s lips. “And the blood exchange?” An edge of cockiness grasps on to our discussion. Though snuggling with Solan in bed is not going to be a hardship.

“No blood exchange, but….” His hesitation rears up again.

“You know, every time you trail off like that, you send my mind whirling and my imagination running wild.”

“I am sorry.” Genuine worry seeps into his words.

“It’s okay, but…?” I prompt, the question clear in my tone.

“I make a promise to talk everything through with you. Once we have Jamie and you are safe.”

I arch a brow. Is that seriously all he’s giving me? Well, that’s annoying as fuck.

A yawn rips through me so wide, my jaw cracks. Damn it. I really do need to sleep. That doesn’t mean I’m not frustrated. I stare at him with sleepy eyes.

“Will you trust me?”

Defeat wraps around me. My shoulders sag even as I cup his cheek. “I do trust you. I still can’t quite fathom what the hell is going on or how damn accepting of everything I’m being, but yeah, I trust you.”

Pieces of his hair shift, undulating as they reach for me. As before, the moment they settle on my skin, a fresh wave of rightness embraces me. What I wouldn’t do to have each silky strand permanently attached to me. It sounds weird as fuck, but there’s no point lying to myself.

“Rest,” he says gruffly, and this time, I nod.

It would be foolish of me not to heed his words. Rest now so we can protect Jamie when he’s back at my side. It’s with that thought that we settle on the mattress, fully clothed and plastered against each other.

“Your English,” I murmur, snuggling up closer to him, “it’s better. You seem to be struggling less.”

At the press of his lips to my head, I barely repress the sigh of contentment wanting to spill.

“I learn fast. The growing bond helps.”

Huh. I wonder if that means I can learn his language. My piss-poor attempt at languages at school was enough to have my Japanese teacher begging me not to select his course for my options. But learning Pyronoxian… being able to speak to Solan in his native tongue is one hell of an incentive.

Our limbs tangle as I consider just how smart he is—and what other changes could happen with our bond—and my heartbeat seems to slow. It’s enough that I notice.

“My heartbeat,” I say sleepily, pressing my hand against Solan’s warm chest.

“Matches mine.”

A smile curves my lips, and I close my eyes, allowing sleep to embrace me.