Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
The world tilted beneath Mal’s feet as the weight of Phillip’s presence crashed into her.
He was alive. He was real, standing in front of her, breathing the same air, touching her with hands she thought she’d never feel again.
The deep and gnawing hollow ache that had taken root in her chest over the years began to fill, too fast and too suddenly. It overwhelmed her, made her dizzy.
Her knees wobbled. The edges of the room blurred. The ground went unsteady beneath her boots. The ceiling above spun around her. She tried to breathe, tried to steady herself, but it felt like the walls were closing in.
Too much, not enough.
It felt like her body was caught between what was real and what was impossible. More than she could handle. Yet less than she needed.
Before she crumbled into a heap, Phillip was there. Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close to him, steadying her against his chest. His familiar scent washed over her—smoke and leather. That was him. That was her Phillip. It really was him.
Mal braced her hands against his chest. Phillip didn’t let go. If anything, he held her tighter, tucking her back into his heart where she belonged. The space fit snugly, like she'd never left. Like it had never been occupied by another.
"I’ve got you. You don’t have to be strong right now, Mal. Not with me. Not anymore.”
His words slipped under her defenses. They unraveled the walls she had built around her heart brick by brick. She sagged against him, her breath hitching as the weight of everything—her grief, her anger, her longing—came crashing down all at once.
“You can lean on me,” Phillip whispered, his lips brushing her temple. "I’m strong enough to hold you."
Mal surrendered. She let her walls fall and wrapped herself around him.
Her body trembled like a fortress taking a strike from a battering ram.
Her face pressed into his chest. The strength that had held her together for so long ebbed away, leaving her trembling as the tears came—hot and unrelenting.
They spilled from her eyes like enemies breaching the gates, overwhelming her with their relentless advance.
She cried for the years lost. For the battles she’d fought alone. For the love she had almost forfeited to time and absence. She cried for the weight she had carried, the shield she had borne, the loneliness that had hollowed her out until she felt more weapon than woman.
Here, in her Phillip's arms, she let it all go. Her burdens dropped like a sword to the ground. Her heart was no longer a battlefield but a sanctuary. Phillip held her tighter, his warmth soaking into her, filling the cracks she hadn’t dared acknowledge until this moment.
In his embrace, she found her truce, her peace.
His hands stroked her back in soothing circles. His touch was patient and tender. His lips followed the trail of her tears, kissing each one away with reverence, as though her tears were something sacred.
“I love you. I’ve always loved you. I’ll never leave you again. Not by my own power or anyone else's."
Mal whimpered, her sharp tongue silenced. She softened under the fierce press of his kisses. She melted into him, her magic flickering gently around them, a reflection of her surrender.
Phillip swept her off her feet with ease.
He cradled her against his chest like she weighed nothing at all.
Mal let him. She gave herself over to him fully, trusting him with a depth that no one else had ever earned.
With Phillip, she didn’t have to be the fierce protector, the tough-as-claws leader.
She didn’t have to carry the world on her shoulders.
In his arms, she was safe. She could set her burdens down. She could let go.
Her prince carried her through the cabin. The quiet crackle of the hearth and the scent of wood smoke wrapped around them like a cocoon. When he laid her on the bed, she uncurled from him, open and vulnerable for his next advance.
With Phillip, she didn’t need control. She didn’t need to fight. Here, she could follow, knowing he would never lead her anywhere but where she was meant to be.
"I want this off."
Mal did as she was told. She reached for the buttons on her frock. Once it was loosened, she pulled it over her head.
"I get to learn you all over again." Phillip's grin was wide. His human incisors gleamed in the pale moon's light, casting him in the glow of a wolf. He frowned, his tooth letting go of his lower lip. "Your breasts are bigger."
"They're the same size."
Phillip cocked his head to the side as though he disagreed.
"Perhaps you've fondled someone with breasts smaller than mine."
He was over her in an instant. Mal's back hit the mattress with a welcoming thud. She tilted her head back, giving her prince her neck.
"I have never in my life touched another set."
Mal opened her mouth to speak.
Phillip's glare shushed her. "Don't you dare speak her name."
Now it was Mal biting her lip.
"I am yours. And you are mine. That is the way the world made us. I would have never broken that vow to you. I will never."
The debate about breast sizes was over.
Phillip peeled the rest of her clothing from her body.
Mal lay pliant under his attack on her clothing.
When he had her completely naked, he parted her thighs.
She didn't squirm as she had the first time he'd done this when they were still learning each other's bodies and pleasures.
For weeks, this had been all they'd done—set their mouths and tongues against the other's secret places.
When Phillip's lips met her secret place, Mal was reminded that he knew everything about her. She arched off the bed, pushing her core into his erudite tongue. He hummed his approval over her clit.
Mal threaded her hands into his hair. Phillip pressed her thighs farther open, pushing his shoulders between her to hold her down.
He did not come up for air once. Instead, he dove his nose between her folds, inhaling deeply before licking and suckling the constant flow of wetness gathering at her center.
She reached her pleasure embarrassingly fast.
Her heels pressed into the mattress. She tried to bring her knees together to ease the onslaught of the spasms. Phillip was having none of that.
He held her down with hands under her hips. He pressed his shoulders into her thighs to prevent them from closing. He pushed his tongue deeper into her core to give her muscles something to contract around.
Only when the contractions ebbed did he release his hold on her. Phillip lifted his head, licking his lips. Then he licked the trickle seeping from between her thighs for good measure.
"I need you," Mal said, reaching for him.
"You have me," he said, tugging off his shirt and trousers.
He prowled up her body. Mal dug her claws into his shoulders. His mouth found hers. Mal tasted her honey on his lips. His hands explored every curve and hollow of her. Mal let herself fall fully into the moment—into him.
That first orgasm had broken her into tiny pieces. But for the first time in years, she felt whole.