Chapter 16 #3
“Prefer?” I laugh softly. “I want both. But the real you… that’s the one I feel drawn to.”
His throat works as he swallows. “You’re strange,” he murmurs.
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“It absolutely was.”
He exhales through his nose, the faintest ghost of amusement crossing his face. Then he shifts—just a little—moving closer. The side of his leg brushes mine, and the contact sends a warm shiver up my spine.
“You’re fearless,” he says.
“I am not.”
“No,” he corrects, “you are. You fear many things. Injury. Loss. Disappointing those you love. The unknown. But not me.”
My heart stutters. “Why would I be afraid of you?” I whisper.
“I’m not…” He hesitates. “Gentle.”
“You were gentle with me.”
“Yes,” he says, voice roughening. “Because you’re mine to protect.”
The words hit like a physical touch—hot, firm, claimed-but-not-possessive. My breath catches. “Yours?”
He freezes, eyes widening slightly as if he just realized what he said.
I don’t let him take it back. “I don’t mind that,” I murmur.
There’s silence for a beat before he says, “You should.”
“I don’t.”
He swallows again, gaze dropping briefly to my mouth, then back to my eyes. “You complicate everything,” he rasps.
“I’m delightful,” I argue softly.
“That is the complication.”
I grin, warmth flooding me from chest to fingertips.
Night settles around us properly now—deep blues shading into black, fire crackling bright in the clearing. Boone’s profile is a silhouette of strength and quiet conflict.
I reach out and touch his hand. It’s light, a little tentative considering the passion of our shared kiss earlier. “You can change, shift back.”
He goes utterly still.
“Boone,” I say, “shift and come lie down with me.”
A frown pulls at his features. “I can lie down with you, but not in my natural form.” Before I can ask why, he continues, “For the first time, it’s better like this. I’m so much stronger in my cryptid form. I need you to be safe.”
The argument is right there on my tongue, but I hold it back. Concern and unwavering resolve all but pulses off him. This isn’t the time I should push. It wouldn’t be fair or right, forcing him into something.
I settle on: “I understand.”
With a nod, he stretches out beside me on the blanket I laid near the fire. I shift closer until my head is resting against his shoulder. His arm slides beneath me, then around me, cradling me against the long line of his body.
I melt instantly, feeling his warmth and his strength. I also feel next-level safe in his arms.
Sweet summer blooms, he feels good.
His breathing rumbles through his chest against my cheek. His scent of cedar and musk is dizzying. This is the part I didn’t know I craved until now: Boone holding me. Not in passion. Not in danger. Just holding me because he wants to.
“You’re trembling,” he murmurs.
“Happy trembling,” I clarify.
His hand tightens on my hip.
We lie like this for a while, listening to the forest settle into nighttime rhythms. A soft wind moves through the trees. The fire crackles. Somewhere distant, an owl calls.
Boone shifts slightly. “You’re warm,” he says.
“And you’re gigantic.”
“That’s… factual.”
I smile into his shoulder. “I like your size.”
His breath catches faintly.
I tilt my head up. “Boone?”
“Yes?”
“Do you know how hard it is not to climb you right now?”
He makes a strangled noise—not quite a cough, not quite a growl. “Elias,” he warns.
“Yes?”
“You’re testing my self-control.”
“That’s the plan.”
He exhales sharply, muscles tensing beneath me.
I soften. “Hey,” I murmur, stroking my thumb along his sternum. “I didn’t mean… pressure. I just meant I like being close to you.”
His body relaxes again, slowly. “I like it,” he admits. “More than I should.”
“Good thing I’m not planning on letting you go anytime soon.”
He groans quietly. “You can’t say things like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll believe you.”
I lift myself up enough to meet his gaze. “Then believe me,” I whisper.
His expression cracks—just a little—revealing the fragile, fiercely hopeful male beneath. He cups the back of my head and pulls me down for a kiss.
Not hungry like earlier. Not rushed.
This time, it’s slow and savoring. A kiss that feels like promise rather than fire.
When we part, he rests his forehead against mine. “Sleep,” he murmurs.
“Will you stay awake all night?” I ask.
“I don’t sleep like humans,” he says. “I drift. I rest. I’m aware even when I’m not aware.”
“So, you’ll watch over me?”
“Yes.”
Warmth floods me—deep, glowing warmth. “I like that,” I whisper.
“I know,” he replies softly.
He pulls me back against him, my leg sliding over his thigh, my hand resting against his ribs. His body curves protectively around mine, and any lingering cold in the air disappears instantly.
My eyes drift closed.
I can’t remember the last time I fell asleep to anything but work, plans, or loneliness. Tonight, it’s the steady, powerful heartbeat of someone I never expected to find.
Someone I’m falling for, and who, right now, is holding me like I’m precious.
Someone who rumbles, just before sleep claims me: “Mine.”