Chapter 20
ROZI
Twilight wrapped around us as we approached the Fae dwelling, the indigo light turning Brody’s skin to burnished gold.
My thighs burned with every step, sweat cooling between my breasts despite the evening chill.
Each movement caused my clothing to chafe against suddenly sensitive skin, my body already preparing for what was to come.
The precious samples in my pack tapped rhythmically against my spine, vials of moss that glowed with subtle blue luminescence, the key to saving countless shifters from pre-feral madness. My mind should have been racing with possibilities, calculations, protocols.
Instead, all I could focus on was the way Brody’s muscles flexed as he pushed open the heavy wooden door, the scent of him, earthy and male, carried to me on the evening breeze. My mouth watered. My pussy clenched in anticipation.
Tonight wasn’t about science… it was about us.
The Fae dwelling welcomed us with gentle warmth, moonstones embedded in the walls glowing brighter as we entered, as if recognizing our return.
Or perhaps sensing our intent. My inner cheetah paced restlessly beneath my skin, anticipation making her movements sharper, more demanding. Tonight, she purred. Finally, tonight.
For once, I didn’t argue with her.
I’d made my decision during our descent from the COL.
Not in a moment of crisis or fear, but in the quiet certainty that had settled over me as we’d collected the samples that would save so many lives.
Science had always been my sanctuary, my purpose.
But standing there at the threshold between water and air, watching the moss respond to my touch, I’d realized something profound.
Some boundaries were meant to be crossed.
I set my pack down carefully, making sure the specimens were secure. Brody placed his beside mine, our hands brushing in the process. Even that fleeting contact sent electricity racing up my arm, the mate bond humming between us with newfound intensity.
“I’ll start a fire,” he said, his voice deeper than usual, rough with an emotion I recognized but had never allowed myself to name.
I watched him move toward the hearth, admiring the confident grace of his movements.
He’d removed his shirt during our hike, the afternoon heat making the fabric uncomfortable against his healing wounds.
The Swarmer claw marks across his torso had almost completely healed, pink scars already fading to silver.
His left hand no longer trembled; the proximity of our extended contact these past days had temporarily stabilized his symptoms.
The muscles of his back rippled beneath golden skin as he arranged kindling in the fireplace, each movement a study in controlled power.
Firelight played across the contours of his body, highlighting the strength in his shoulders, the narrowing at his waist, the dimples just above the waistband of his jeans.
My fingers tingled with the memory of touching him in the hot spring the night before, of the velvet-over-steel texture of his skin.
His scent filled the air, sandalwood and citrus and something wild that belonged only to him, growing stronger as his body heated with awareness of my gaze.
I inhaled deeply, letting the uniquely male fragrance fill my lungs, triggering receptors that sent signals of recognition straight to my brain’s pleasure centers.
My inner cheetah stirred in response to his movements, languid yet purposeful beneath my skin.
But only the claiming would heal him completely.
The fire caught, flames dancing blue and gold in a way no ordinary fire would.
Like everything in this place, it obeyed laws beyond conventional understanding, laws I was only beginning to grasp.
Heat radiated outward, caressing my skin with invisible fingers, heightening every sensation.
The subtle crackle and pop of burning wood created an intimate soundtrack, punctuated by our increasingly rapid breathing.
My gaze drifted to the steaming pool at the far side of the dwelling, the waterfall flowing from the rock wall creating gentle ripples across its surface.
The COL water called to me, its mineral scent carrying promises of cleansing and renewal.
Steam rose in hypnotic spirals, bearing the scent of ancient magic and endless possibility.
Decision made, I moved toward it with deliberate steps. Brody turned from the hearth, watching me with an intensity that made the heat pool low in my belly. Without breaking eye contact, I reached for the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head.
His eyes darkened, pupils dilating as more of my skin was revealed. I continued undressing with methodical precision, neither rushing nor putting on a show. This wasn’t seduction; it was intent.
When I stood completely naked, I allowed him to look his fill. His gaze traveled over me with such reverence it felt like a physical caress, lingering on the curve of my breasts, the dip of my waist, the flare of my hips. I should have felt exposed, vulnerable. Instead, I felt powerful.
“Are you going to join me?” I asked, one eyebrow raised in challenge.
He didn’t need to be asked twice. His remaining clothes came off with an efficiency that spoke of military training and desperate need. And then he stood before me, gloriously naked, his arousal evident and impressive.
I allowed myself to appreciate the sight of him, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, powerful thighs, and the heavy length of his cock jutting proudly from the nest of dark hair at its base. My cheetah simply purred, Mine.
I turned and stepped into the pool, the warm water enveloping me in silken heat. I heard him enter behind me, felt the ripples of his movement against my skin seconds before his hands settled lightly on my waist.
“May I?” he asked, his breath warm against my ear.
I nodded, tilting my head to grant him better access as his lips traced a path down the sensitive column of my neck.
His hands moved with exquisite gentleness, cupping water to pour over my shoulders, my back, following each rivulet with his fingertips.
The sensation was so intense I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning.
I turned in his arms, my nipples grazing his chest through the water, sending heat straight to my core.
His cock brushed against my belly, hot and hard even in the warm water.
Steam blanketed our skin, making every point of contact slick and sensitive.
His face hovered inches from mine, his breath tasting of mint and male as it mingled with mine.
His pupils had expanded, swallowing the amber flecks in his irises. His nostrils flared as he inhaled my scent, female arousal unmistakable to his heightened senses. A muscle jumped in his jaw, his restraint visible in the rigid line of his shoulders.
“Rozi,” he whispered, my name sounding like both prayer and curse on his lips.
I grabbed his face, my fingers digging into his stubbled jaw as I crashed my mouth against his.
His lips parted instantly, his tongue sweeping into my mouth with a desperate hunger that matched my own.
The taste of him exploded across my tongue, rich, wild, untamed.
The mate bond flared between us, molten gold heat racing through my veins.
He groaned into my mouth, the vibration traveling straight to my clit.
His hands slid down to cup my ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he lifted me, pressing my back against the smooth stone wall of the pool.
My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, my core grinding against the hard ridge of his thick cock.
Even through the water, I felt how perfectly we aligned, like pieces of a puzzle.
His mouth moved against mine with exquisite control, the kiss starting slow and exploratory before deepening with hungry intent. When his tongue traced the seam of my lips, I opened for him without hesitation, welcoming the intimate invasion.
I slid my hands up his chest to tangle in his hair, holding him to me as if he might disappear.
His arms tightened around my waist, pulling me flush against him until every inch of our bodies aligned in perfect symmetry.
The hard length of his arousal pressed against my belly, a promise of pleasures to come.
The kiss deepened further, moving beyond passion into something almost spiritual.
Each stroke of his tongue against mine, each gentle nip of his teeth on my bottom lip, felt like communication beyond words, apologies and forgiveness, promises and hope, all mingled together in a sensory declaration that transcended language.
When we finally broke apart, both gasping for breath, his eyes had gone molten gold, his wolf peering at me from behind human features. My inner cheetah purred in response, stretched beneath my skin in anticipation.
“You taste like coming home,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion as he traced my cheekbone with trembling fingers.
The simple honesty in his words struck deeper than any practiced seduction could have. I captured his hand, turning my face to press a kiss to his palm, a gesture so tender it surprised even me.
“No more waiting,” I whispered against his skin. “No more running.”
His answering smile was beautiful with joy and heavy with promise. “No more running,” he agreed, lowering his head to claim my lips once more.
I took the soft cloth from his hands. “My turn,” I said, my voice husky from the kiss, deeper than I’d intended.