Chapter Forty
Calista
Everest’s head dipped. And the world disappeared.
A gasp tore from me, sharp and unguarded as his tongue found me.
Frost take me.
No one had ever touched me like that. No one had ever known me like that.
My back arched off the ground as heat exploded through me. He licked slowly at first, deliberately, like he was savoring the discovery, then deeper, harder, until pleasure raced up my spine in wild, helpless sparks.
“Oh, goddess, Everest—”
“There’s no goddess here,” he growled against me, the vibration of his voice sending another shock through my body. “Only me, Calista. And before I’m done with you, I will make sure you remember this moment for the rest of your life.”
A growl rolled through his chest. Not human. Not entirely. His Wolvryn stirring beneath his skin, answering something deep within me.
His hands spread my thighs wider as if he meant to keep me open for him, claimed for him. Then, he devoured me.
There was no other word for it.
Each slow drag of his tongue made my breath hitch higher, thinner, until I could barely think past the sensation building inside me. The sounds coming from him were low and hungry, like he had waited too long for this and meant to take everything he was owed.
It was raw. Primal. Devastating.
A tight coil of heat gathered low in my spine, sharper with every stroke of his tongue.
“Everest,” I breathed, fingers tangling in his hair, holding him closer instead of pushing him away. “I’m going to—”
“I know,” he growled. “Come apart for me, Calista.”
That was all it took.
The tension of the Hunt, the fear, the exhaustion, the hunger I had tried to ignore since the moment I met him all snapped at once. With one final slow, merciless sweep of his tongue, the pressure inside me shattered.
Heat tore through me in a blinding rush.
I came apart with his name breaking from my lips, fingers tight in his hair as he held me there and took everything I gave him.
When the storm finally eased, I collapsed back against the floorboards, boneless and trembling.
“Good girl.” His mouth curved into something dark and satisfied as he lifted his head, gaze burning into mine. He ran his tongue slowly across his lips like he was still tasting me. “Gods,” he murmured. “Even better than I imagined.”
Another wave of heat rushed through me.
Then something changed. He drew in a sharp breath like it hurt and pressed his forehead to mine, eyes closing as though he was fighting himself.
“Just once,” he whispered again.
I looked between us. His arousal was unmistakable.
I reached for him.
He caught my wrist before I could touch him and shook his head slowly. “I can’t.”
“You can do that to me,” I said, breath still uneven, “but you won’t let me touch you?”
“There are things we don’t come back from,” he said quietly. “Not after this.”
Understanding hit like cold water. The king. Savage.
My virtue still belonged to another male in his mind.
His jaw tightened. His shoulders flexed like he was holding himself together by force alone. He looked like a male who wanted to drag me back beneath him and ruin us both.
A part of me wanted exactly the same thing.
A long minute later, he stood, naked and seemingly completely unbothered by it.
He crossed to his pack as if his body wasn’t hard, and his eyes weren’t still blazing.
It was all I could do not to beg him to come back.
Instead, I only lay there staring at his perfect, goddess blessed form like a fool.
“We have to move.” His voice was clipped as he speared his long legs into his hunting briefs, finally hiding the overwhelming proof of his desire.
A stupid part of me was disappointed to see it hidden. The sense of satisfaction it caused was ridiculous. Shaking my head, I pushed up slowly, the shift sliding back down my bare thighs, my face still hot. “Move?”
“Yes.” He didn’t look at me. “The storm broke which means our tracks will hold again and your scent will be easily traceable. The hunters will start moving as soon as they can see.”
And just like that, it was as if the last half hour had never happened. It stung like frosted hells, but damn him, he was right. We’d delayed enough and couldn’t afford another precious moment.
“And you?” My voice didn’t sound like mine. It sounded like a female trying not to beg. Still, I managed to pull myself together. “You’re fully healed after last night?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Everest’s shoulders rose and fell once. “I want you at Frostcrag before the full moon.”
The full moon was tonight. The chill beneath my skin returned at the mention. “Why?”
His head turned slightly, enough that I caught his profile. The hard line of his mouth, and the shadows in his eyes.
“Because if you’re still out here when Selraya shows her full face…” He swallowed, throat working. “You’ll be the only one who doesn’t change.”
“I already know that.” I tried for sharpness, but it came out softer than I intended.
“No,” he replied, and for the first time a hint of fear laced his tone. “You don’t know what happens to a lone female surrounded by beasts when blood is already on the snow.”
My stomach dipped.
He turned then, finally looking at me fully. “And I don’t know what will happen to me.”
The words landed heavy. Especially after everything that had just happened.
Everest exhaled through his nose, then reached for the cloth wraps. “How’s your ankle?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. The truth was bright and ugly. It had swelled overnight. The joint felt unstable, like one wrong step would crack something that wouldn’t knit back together in time.
But admitting it would only slow us.
Admitting it would make him want to carry me, and I couldn’t allow him to break yet another one of his valued laws for me. Not to mention I didn’t know if I could handle the shame, or the closeness, or the way his hands would feel on my skin now that he’d done that to me.
“It’s fine,” I lied.
Everest’s gaze held mine for a long beat, and I knew he heard the falsehood the way he heard everything. But he didn’t call me out on it. He only crouched in front of me and reached for my foot. “Give it here.”
I shifted closer and extended my leg, trying not to wince as he lifted my ankle carefully. His fingers were warm and sure as he unwound the old wrap, inspecting the swelling with grim patience.
He rewrapped it tighter, reinforcing the joint with practiced efficiency, then tied it off and pressed two fingers to the side of my ankle in a testing touch.
Pain flared. I jerked, biting down on a sound.
Everest’s gaze flicked up, sharp. “Fine,” he echoed flatly, mocking my lie without saying it outright.
Heat crawled up my neck. “Don’t you dare start with me.”
He huffed a short laugh with no humor in it. “I’m not starting anything.”
Too late.
My pulse skipped. I stared at his hands, at the way he treated my ankle like it was precious. I needed a distraction, anything to keep my mind off him. “What’s it like?”
Everest’s hands stilled, but he didn’t look up. “What’s what like?”
“When you’re…like that.” I chewed on my bottom lip. “When you’re in Wolvryn form.”
A beat of silence.
Then embarrassment flooded me. “Could you understand me? I know I was… rambling. I asked you a thousand things, and you couldn’t answer and I—”
Everest’s gaze lifted, pinning me with a calm that made my skin prickle. “I heard you.”
My stomach dipped again. “You did?”
“I’m still mostly aware when I’m in Wolvryn form. I’m still me.”
My face went hot. “And you remember?”
His mouth tightened. “Everything.”
Oh, Selraya.
I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. Still, I forced my voice steady. “So you heard me ask if Savage stole Trystan’s mate. And about the Moonbound. And—”
“Yes,” he cut in, low and final.
I stared at him. “Then answer me.”
Everest’s eyes darkened, jaw flexing. He looked away at first as if the questions were hooks, and he didn’t intend to let me sink them in. “Not now.”
“Everest—”
“Calista.” My name was a warning again, softer than last night’s but no less firm. “Not now. We don’t have time.”
The refusal stung more than it should have. Or maybe it stung exactly as much as it should.
He stood and turned toward the rest of his clothes by his pack, pulling them on with quick efficiency. Cloak. Trousers. Belt. Boots. The Black Wolf assembling himself again, piece by piece, as if what just happened had been a mistake he could erase by moving fast.
I pushed myself to my feet, wincing as my ankle complained. Then I started gathering what we needed because if I didn’t do something with my hands, I might do something reckless with my mouth.
We packed in silence, the hut suddenly too bright in the morning light. Everest doused the stove and kicked snow over the ashes. He made sure nothing of us remained but cold and shadow.
At the door, he paused, with his palm on the bolt. He didn’t look back at me when he spoke. “It’s time to go.”
I tightened the fur cloak around my shoulders, tasted the last ghost of his lips on mine, and nodded once like I hadn’t just been kissed into ruin. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Everest slid the bolt free, pulled the door open, and the cold rushed in like the brutal truth.
We stepped out into a world scrubbed clean by the snow, tracks sharp again in fresh powder. The long road to Frostcrag waited ahead like a blade laid across the horizon.