Chapter 12
Valrek had discovered the Pool of the Moon not long after he’d found the sea cave. He’d stumbled into the hidden grotto by accident, following the sound of falling water through a narrow crack in the rock, and had emerged into a space so beautiful it had stolen his breath.
The pool filled a natural basin carved into the heart of the cliff, fed by a freshwater spring that cascaded down the stone in a silver ribbon.
Bioluminescent algae lined the walls, casting the cavern in soft blue-green light that shifted and danced with the movement of the water.
Above, a crack in the ceiling opened to the sky, allowing a single shaft of moonlight to pierce the darkness and illuminate the pool’s surface like a spotlight.
It was sacred, somehow. Private. A place he’d never shared with anyone except Lilani.
Until now.
“Oh,” Ariella breathed as she emerged from the narrow passage behind him. “Oh.”
She moved past him, drawn towards the water like a compass needle finding north. Her fingers trailed along the glowing walls, and everywhere she touched, the algae brightened in response, as if recognizing a kindred spirit.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” she whispered. “The light… it’s almost like—”
“Like you.”
She turned to face him, and in the soft luminescence, her skin glowed brighter than the cavern itself, a beacon of living light, and his beast roared with possessive triumph.
Beautiful. Perfect. OURS.
“The water’s fresh,” he managed, though his throat had gone tight. “Clean. Good for bathing, if you want. I thought after having been out all day…”
It’s a practical offer, he told himself. Nothing more.
The way she looked at him suggested she knew exactly how much he was lying.
“Bathing,” she repeated, her voice soft and considering. “Here?”
“I’ll wait outside. Guard the entrance.” He was already stepping back, already trying to put distance between himself and the magnetic pull of her presence. “Take as long as you need.”
“Valrek.”
He stopped.
She was still facing him, her chin lifted and her shoulders squared, though he could see the rapid flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat. Ribbons of color fluttered over her skin.
“What if…” She swallowed, and the small movement of her throat made his beast snarl with want. “What if I didn’t want you to wait outside?”
He had to clench his fist on the rock to stop himself from immediately sweeping her up in his arms.
“Ariella.”
“You don’t have to. I mean. If you don’t want… I just thought—” She was stumbling over herself now, the confident woman who’d found him by sound alone suddenly reduced to flustered uncertainty. “In the meadow today, you held me, and I thought maybe… But if I misread—”
“You didn’t misread.”
She went very still.
“Then stay.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Please.”
Every rational thought in his head screamed at him to refuse. She was human—mostly—and he was a broken Vultor warrior with nothing to offer but a sea cave and a half-breed child and the beast that lived beneath his skin.
But his beast didn’t care about rational thoughts. His beast cared about the female standing before him, glowing like a fallen star, asking him to stay. His hands moved to the ties of his tunic.
Her breath caught as he pulled the garment over his head and let it fall to the stone floor. The cool air of the cavern kissed his bare chest, but he barely felt it—not when her eyes were tracing the landscape of his body with an expression that made his blood run hot.
“Your scars,” she breathed. “I saw some of them before, but…”
“There are more.”
She nodded slowly, her gaze following the silvered lines that crisscrossed his torso.
Battle wounds, mostly. Fighting for a pack that had ultimately cast him out.
Fighting for the entertainment of strangers when he had nowhere else to go.
Fighting to protect his daughter. He waited for the revulsion, the fear that humans usually displayed when confronted with evidence of Vultor violence.
Instead, she stepped closer.
“Can I touch them?”
“Yes.”
Her fingers were cool against his heated skin, tracing the ridge of a scar that ran from his collarbone to his navel. He’d gotten that one in a border skirmish, defending territory that no longer belonged to him. It had healed badly, puckered and raised, and he’d always thought of it as ugly.
The way she touched it—reverent, curious, gentle—made him reconsider.
“You’ve survived so much,” she murmured, her hand sliding across his chest to find another scar. “Every one of these is a story.”
“Mostly stories of stupidity and pain.”
“Stories of strength.” Her eyes met his, and the conviction in them made his chest ache. “Of someone who refused to die.”
He caught her hand before she could explore further, pressing it flat against his heart. She had to feel it pounding—had to know what she was doing to him.
“Ariella. I—” He fought for words, fought against the beast that was clawing at his control. “I am not human. I don’t take these things lightly. The more I touch you, the more my beast will consider you mine. Do you understand?”
Her breath hitched. “Yours?”
“My mate.” The words came out raw, scraping against his throat. “I’ve been fighting it since the first moment I scented you. But if you invite me into that water with you, I don’t know if I’ll be able to fight anymore.”
He expected her to pull away. Instead, she leaned up and pressed her lips to the center of his chest, right over his thundering heart.
“Good,” she whispered against his skin. “Stop fighting.”
She turned away, shedding her diving suit with a shyness that made his heart clench, then slipped into the pool, her body disappearing inch by inch beneath the luminous surface.
When she finally turned to face him, submerged to her shoulders with her dark hair floating around her like seaweed, he forgot how to breathe.
She was beautiful. Ethereal. The stars speckled across her skin blazed bright against the water’s glow, and he could see more of them now—a constellation of light scattered across her ribs, her hips, the delicate curves that the water couldn’t quite hide.
“Are you coming in?” Her voice was soft, but he could hear the nervous tremor beneath it. “Or are you just going to stare?”
“I’m enjoying the view.”
She made a sound that might have been a laugh, but it broke halfway through into something more vulnerable. “No one’s ever looked at me like that before.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re hungry.” She ducked her head, her hair falling to curtain her face. “Like I’m something you want, instead of something you want to study.”
The pain in her words was like a blade between his ribs.
He shed the rest of his clothes without ceremony and descended into the pool with quick, purposeful strides. The water rose to his waist—he was too tall for it to cover much more—and the contrast of the cool liquid against his overheated skin made him shudder.
But not as much as the look on her face when she finally lifted her head.
She was staring at his body with an expression of naked want that made his beast howl in triumph.
Her gaze traced the breadth of his shoulders, the planes of his chest, the ridged muscle of his abdomen where the water lapped just above his hips.
Her skin was blazing now—colors swirling across her skin in patterns he was beginning to understand meant desire.
“Come here,” he said, and the words came out as a growl.
She moved through the water like she was born to it—which she was, he reminded himself.
This was her element, and the grace of her movements made his mouth go dry.
When she reached him, she stopped just inches away, close enough to touch but not quite touching, her silver-flecked eyes searching his face.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted, and the vulnerability in her voice made his chest ache. “I’ve never… With the experiments, and my father’s research—”
He kissed her.
It wasn’t gentle. He’d meant it to be. He’d promised himself he’d be careful, that he would treat her like the precious thing she was. But the moment his lips met hers, his beast surged forward, and gentleness became an impossible dream.
She gasped into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound, his tongue sweeping past her lips to taste the sweetness within.
His hands found her waist beneath the water, pulling her against him until her body was flush with his, and the sensation of her bare skin against his sent shockwaves of pleasure through his entire being.
Soft. Warm. Glowing. Mine.
When he finally pulled back, they were both breathing hard. Her skin was blazing so brightly that it cast shadows on the cavern walls, and her lips were swollen from his kisses, begging to be claimed again.
“Valrek,” she breathed. Just his name, nothing more, but the way she said it—reverent and desperate and wanting—nearly broke him.
“I’ve got you.” He pressed his forehead to hers, fighting for control. “Let me… I want to make you feel good. Will you let me?”
“Yes.” The word was instant, unhesitating. “Please. I want… I don’t even know what I want, but I want you.”
A growl rumbled through his chest, and he felt her shiver in response. Good. She should know what she did to him. She should understand the beast that lived beneath his skin, the primal thing that had claimed her as its own from their very first encounter.
He walked her backwards through the water until her shoulders pressed against the smooth stone of the pool’s edge. The rock there had been worn smooth by centuries of flowing water, curved just enough to cradle her body, and he silently thanked whatever ancient force had carved this place.
“Hold on to me,” he murmured against her ear. “Don’t let go.”