Chapter 47
FORTY-SEVEN
KAI
It’s getting harder to stand still.
Not because anything has changed suddenly, but because it hasn’t stopped changing at all. Her scent keeps building, deepening in slow, relentless layers that settle into the room until there’s no space left untouched by it.
Coconut and jasmine still sit at the top, light and almost cool on the inhale, but the sandalwood has warmed, thickened, turned into something that clings to the back of my throat and sinks low in my body, whether I want it there or not.
She’s quieter.
Not asleep. Not drifting. Just…loosened.
Melted into the nest in a way that feels deliberate, like her body has finally stopped fighting itself and given in to what it needs.
Finn’s hands move steadily across her back, controlled and grounding, easing tension I hadn’t realised she was holding.
Koa’s braid lies neat against her spine, keeping her hair away from the curve of her neck.
Sol’s purr continues beneath it all, low and constant, threading through the air like something solid enough to lean on.
It should feel steady.
It doesn’t.
Because she moves.
It’s small. Barely anything. Just the shift of her hips against the blankets, the press of her thighs together – but it changes the air instantly. Her scent spikes, warmer now, heavier, carrying something that doesn’t leave any room for interpretation.
My jaw tightens and my boxer shorts tent as I harden.
Across from me, Koa stills for a fraction of a second before continuing, his fingers smoothing over the braid like he’s choosing calm instead of reaction. Finn doesn’t pause at all. Sol’s purr deepens, the vibration stronger now, anchoring her where she lies.
They’re managing it.
I’m not.
“Brat,” I mutter, the word slipping out low.
Her head turns slightly, eyes finding mine without effort. “Mm?” she hums, soft but aware, like she’s listening without needing to move.
I push off the wall before I can second-guess it, crossing the space and dropping down beside her in the nest so I don’t have to pretend distance is helping.
“You keep shifting like that,” I say, voice already roughening, “and you’re going to make things worse.”
Her lips curve faintly. “For me?” she asks.
There’s a beat.
“For everyone,” I answer, because I’m not giving her that win.
Her gaze sharpens just a touch, something knowing flickering through the softness. “Right,” she murmurs. “Everyone.”
So fucking sassy.
I brace a hand beside her shoulder, leaning in just enough that her scent wraps around me fully now, warm and thick and impossible to ignore. My other hand settles at her hip before I think about it, firm enough to still the subtle movement she’s making without pinning her down.
Her breath catches.
I feel it.
That reaction lands straight into my chest, tightening something that was already stretched too thin.
“Careful,” I say quietly. “You don’t get to poke at me and then pretend you didn’t mean to.”
Her eyes flick up to mine properly now, clear despite the heat curling through her. “I meant to,” she says.
Of course she did. Brat.
I drag a hand through my hair, tension pulling tight through my shoulders. “You’re pushing.”
“And you’re holding back,” she shoots back, softer but no less direct.
Behind me, Finn shifts slightly. Not stepping in. Just there. Sol’s purr doesn’t falter. Koa doesn’t look up, but I can feel the attention anyway, quiet and steady.
They’re letting this play out.
Letting me decide.
I hate that.
Because deciding means stepping in.
And stepping in means she sees—
“What if you don’t like what you see?” The words come out before I can stop them, rough and unfiltered.
Silence holds for a second.
Her gaze doesn’t move.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like what I see,” she says.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Just fact.
I study her face, looking for any crack in it, any sign she hasn’t thought that through.
There’s nothing.
Just her, steady and open and waiting like she already knows the answer.
Something in my chest shifts, not easing, but settling into something heavier and harder to ignore.
“Yeah?” I ask, quieter now.
She nods. “Yeah.”
I hold her gaze for a second longer, then exhale slowly, letting some of that tension bleed out without fully disappearing.
“Dangerous thing to say,” I mutter.
Her lips curve. “You’re still here.”
I huff a breath, something almost like a laugh catching in it. “Yeah,” I admit. “I am. But what if we bond, and you don’t like…me?” It’s embarrassing to voice my biggest fear out loud, especially in front of Finn and my brothers, but the words slip out without permission.
“I wouldn’t want to bond if I wasn’t already sure that what’s inside you is good, Kai,” she tells me softly.
Something in her tone soothes me. I settle. Relax. Trust her. Trust in us. In this bond that’s yet to be cemented, but is already well on its way to be established.
This time when I lean in, I don’t stop.
My hand tightens slightly at her hip, grounding her as my other hand moves to her shoulder, guiding her just enough that she has to face me properly. Her breath stutters, the shift immediate, and the scent in the room thickens again in response.
No one interrupts.
They’re letting me take this.
Letting me stop pretending I’m not already in it.
“Still think I’m the one struggling?” I murmur, close enough now that my voice brushes against her skin. Her scent is perfuming bright and bold, filling the room and signalling to all of us just how aroused she is.
Her fingers curl into the blankets. “A bit,” she says, stubborn even now.
A low sound pulls from my chest, rough and instinctive, and her body reacts to it immediately, arching slightly into the contact at her hip.
That does something to me.
Not control.
Not calm.
Something sharper. Clearer.
“Keep pushing,” I say quietly, my thumb dragging a slow line along her side, feeling the way her skin reacts under the touch. “See where that gets you.”
Her head tilts, exposing more of her throat, her voice softer now but steady. “I am.”
No hesitation.
No fear.
Just choice.
And that’s it.
That’s the moment something in me stops fighting it.
Not because the heat demands it.
Because she does.
Because she’s standing here – lying here – choosing me like she’s already decided I’m worth the risk.
My grip tightens, my body shifting closer without thought, instinct finally aligning with something I’m not trying to shut down.
“Brat,” I murmur again, quieter this time.
And this time, I don’t hold back.
I dip my head, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss. She tastes like sweet coconut and the lingering warmth of jasmine, her mouth soft and yielding against mine. A small sound escapes her, a mix between a sigh and a moan, and it sends a surge of desire coursing through me.
I pull her closer and her body melts into mine, her curves fitting perfectly against my hard planes.
I can feel the heat radiating from her, the scent of her arousal wrapping around us like a thick cloud.
My tongue sweeps into her mouth, tangling with hers, and she responds eagerly, her hands coming up to grasp at my shoulders.
I break the kiss, but only so I can taste her somewhere new.
I track her jawline with my mouth, tongue flicking over the delicate bone before I bite—gentle, but enough to mark the moment.
Her skin is warm and impossibly soft under my lips.
I can’t help but linger. The sound she makes when I graze her with my teeth is sharp and stuttered, and it punches through my control with force.
I want to hear it again. I want to map out every place that will make her gasp like that, make her lean in instead of away.
So I work my way down, slow and deliberate, lips and teeth and tongue tracing the line of her jaw to the hollow beneath her ear.
I pause there, pressing my nose into her hair and breathing her in.
The scent is even more intense this close — less jasmine and more raw heat, all her, all for me.
I drag my lips along the side of her neck, feeling her pulse flutter beneath the skin, and then suck gently at the soft spot above her collarbone.
She shivers. Not with cold. With want.
I risk a glance across the nest. Finn’s eyes are molten, fixed on where my mouth is at her throat.
Sol’s still making that steady, grounding purr, but even he is watching now, pupils blown wide.
Koa’s hand has stilled on her braid, fingers curled tight like he’s holding himself back from joining in.
The room is thick with expectation, every sense dialed up and waiting.
But I only care about her. About how she feels. How she tastes. How her body is already arching into my touch, begging for more even as she pretends she’s in control of the game.
I move lower, lips and tongue tracing her pulse, following it down to the slender curve of her shoulder.
Her skin jumps under my mouth as I bite there, a little harder this time, and she lets out a noise that’s half laughter and half challenge.
My own body answers with a jolt of heat, tight and aching and so close to snapping.
“You like that, brat?” I murmur against her skin, letting my teeth scrape her lightly.
The answer is her hands, which fist in my hair and yank me closer, like she can’t stand any distance at all. She bares her throat, eyes on fire, daring me to do more. To be more. To take what I want.
I don’t need any more encouragement.
I mouth along her collarbone, sucking and tasting and teasing, and the scent that pours off her is pure want.
It’s in the air, in my blood, in every muscle that aches to touch her more, to mark her as mine.
I feel her nails rake along my arms, sharp and demanding, and it makes everything inside me coil tight with anticipation.