Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Kieran
Watching her sleep, I feel a primal stirring in my chest.
Daciana lies on her stomach, the sheet tangled around her hips, leaving her back bare to the morning light filtering through the curtains. Marks litter her pale skin: red scratches, bruises already blooming purple, the imprint of my teeth on her shoulder.
Pride rather than guilt surges through me. Mine. The wolf in me practically purrs at the sight, at the proof that she belongs to me.
It has been three days since we mated, and I haven’t been able to keep my hands off her. Every time I think I’m satisfied, she makes some small sound or moves in a certain way, and the hunger roars back to life.
This has never happened to me before. Not with any of her past selves.
I was gentle with them, loving, adoring.
But this vicious hunger that claws at my insides?
This hunger that wants to consume her, possess her, mark her so completely that she can never belong to anyone else?
This savage possessiveness belongs only to Daciana.
To this version of her, in this lifetime, with me as I am now.
It should terrify me, this ravenous beast inside me that recognizes no limits. The way I can’t seem to stop myself from taking her, from marking her skin, from making her scream my name until her voice is hoarse.
Instead, it feels right. Like this is what I was meant to feel for her.
Even now, I want to wake her. But there are shadows under her eyes, and even in sleep, her brow is furrowed with tension.
I reach out, unable to stop myself from touching her, and lightly rub my thumb between her eyebrows, trying to smooth away the frown. “You’re always so tense, my little wolf,” I murmur. “All I want is for you to be happy.”
She doesn’t wake up, but her face relaxes slightly.
My eyes drift to her lips. “I love you.” That’s what she has said to me. She says it so easily, but somewhere in my heart there is a trace of doubt. Whom do those words belong to? To Daciana or to the women who came before her?
She is only now beginning to remember, through her dreams. Fragments of lives she lived, loves she experienced. But they’re not clear to her yet—not the way they are to me.
Maybe she says it because the dreams are confusing her, showing her pieces of past lives where we loved each other, and she can’t tell where those feelings end and hers begin.
The thought bothers me. I want her love to be real. To be for me. Kieran. The man who can barely control himself around her.
But how can I know? How can I ever be certain when her dreams of the past keep bleeding into our present?
Daciana stirs, a small sound escaping her lips. I immediately reach for the glass of water I set on the nightstand earlier.
Her eyes flutter open, unfocused at first, then finding mine. A soft smile curves her lips, unguarded and genuine, and my heart skips a beat.
“Hey,” she whispers, her voice rough with sleep.
“Hey.” I help her sit up, supporting her back as I offer her the water. “Drink.”
She takes the glass gratefully, gulping down half of it before setting it aside. Then, she tries to adjust her position and immediately lets out a groan that is half pain, half protest.
My hands immediately take her by the shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” She shoots me an incredulous look, wincing as she settles back against the pillows. “You’re a beast in bed, that’s what’s wrong.”
Heat coils within me. We were at it all night. Even when exhaustion had her trembling, I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t get enough. The desire in me demanded more. Always more.
“I’ll give you a bath,” I say, already moving to help her stand up.
“Don’t even think about touching me.” She holds up a hand, stopping me. “My entire back hurts.”
Guilt pricks at me now, but it’s tangled up with satisfaction. I ignore her protest and carefully help her to her feet, supporting most of her weight as she sways.
“I’ll give you a bath,” I repeat, steadying her. “I promise not to cross the line.”
She gives me a flat look. “After the fourth time, you told me I could go to sleep. I was up until dawn, Kieran.”
I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. I reach up and rub my thumb gently across her mouth, feeling the slight swelling there.
“I can’t help it if you make me lose control,” I murmur.
And it’s true. Whatever this is between us, it’s explosive. Consuming.
“Come on.” I guide her toward the bathroom. “After the bath, I’m taking you out today.”
She stops, clearly surprised. “Out?”
“Yes. Out of this room. Away from the palace.”
“Isn’t it dangerous?” Worry creeps into her voice. “Someone might—”
“I have ways to disappear without anybody noticing.” I tilt her chin up, needing her to see the truth in my eyes. “Trust me.”
She studies my face for a long moment. Finally, she sighs, and her features soften.
“I trust you.”
These three simple words make my heart soar. She trusts me. Despite everything—despite our history, despite the danger, despite the fact that I can’t keep my hands off her—she trusts me. Not because of who I was in some past life, but because of who I am now.
I lead her into the bathroom and start filling the large tub, testing the water temperature until it’s perfectly warm. When I turn back to her, she’s leaning against the counter, watching me with an expression I can’t quite read.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.” But she smiles slightly. “Just…you’re being sweet.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.” I move over to her and carefully lift her into my arms. She doesn’t protest this time, simply wrapping her wrists around my neck.
I lower her into the water slowly, mindful of her soreness. She hisses slightly as the heat touches her skin, then melts with a sigh of relief.
“Better?” I ask.
“Mm.” Her eyes drift closed. “Much better.”
I should leave her to soak. Instead, I find myself reaching for the soap and lathering it between my hands.
“You promised not to cross the line,” she reminds me, but there’s no real threat there.
“I won’t.” I spread the soap across her back, softly over the marks I left. “I’m taking care of you. There’s a difference.”
She doesn’t argue, just lets me wash her, her body gradually relaxing. I take my time, savoring the simple intimacy of it, the trust she shows by letting me see her like this.
I shampoo her hair, working my fingers through the tangles, massaging her scalp until she’s practically purring. When I tilt her head back to rinse it out, water cascades over her, and she looks up at me with half-lidded eyes.
“Kieran,” she whispers.
“Mm?”
“Thank you.”
My throat tightens, and I have to lean down and kiss her forehead before I can respond. “You don’t need to thank me.”
“I want to.”
I move to kiss her temple, her cheek. Can’t seem to stop myself. She turns her head, catching my lips with hers, and the kiss is soft, gentle. Not driven by desperate hunger, but by something deeper. Tenderness. Love, even.
When I pull back, I move to her neck, pressing kisses along the column of her throat, feeling her pulse flutter against my lips.
“Kieran,” she murmurs.
“I’m not crossing the line,” I say against her skin. “Just…appreciating you.”
Her laugh is breathy, and her hand comes up to tangle in my hair.
I kiss across her shoulders, the slope of her neck, the hollow of her throat.
Worshipping her with my mouth, showing her without words what I can’t quite bring myself to say: that I need her.
That the thought of losing her makes me violent with fear.
I map her skin with my lips, committing every inch to memory. She sighs, melting further into the water. When I finally stop, her eyes are dark with desire, but they’re also warm with a softer emotion.
“You’re impossible,” she says sweetly.
“You love it.”
She looks at me for a long moment, and there’s a warm and honest change in her expression that makes my breath catch. She doesn’t say those three words again, just reaches up to cup my face, her thumb brushing my cheekbone.
The gesture is enough. For now, it’s enough.
I capture her lips with mine, kissing her deeply. Trying to show her that she’s mine, that I’m hers, that this thing between us is real and raw and entirely our own.
“I’m going to make you happy,” I tell her, my voice fierce with promise. “I’m going to show you that choosing me—trusting me—wasn’t a mistake.”
“You already do,” she says, and the simple certainty in her voice undoes me.
I kiss her again, unable to resist. The familiar heat builds between us. The passion in me stirs, wanting to pull her from the tub and take her again.
But I force myself to resist. She needs to rest, to recover. Besides, I meant what I said—I want to take her out and show her something of the world beyond these walls.
“Come on,” I say, helping her from the tub. “Let’s get you dressed. I have plans for us.”
She looks up at me, water streaming down her body, and grins. “What kind of plans?”
“The kind where I get to see you having fun.” I wrap a towel around her, pulling her close, breathing in her scent. “Where I get to pretend, just for a few hours, that we’re normal. That the world isn’t trying to tear us apart.”
Smiling softly, she reaches up to touch my face. “I’d like that.”
“Then let me give it to you.” I press my forehead to hers. “Let me give you everything.”
And I will. Whatever it takes, whatever the cost. She’s mine—not because of the past, but because of who we are now, in this moment. Because of this passionate, consuming love that belongs to Kieran and Daciana alone.
I’ll burn the world down before I let anyone take her from me.
I press my palm against the cool, stone wall of my chambers, calling forth the magic that lives beneath my skin. It responds immediately, a familiar whisper of power that flows through my veins like ice water.
“What are you doing?” Daciana asks from where she’s perched on the edge of the bed, watching me with curious eyes.