Chapter 22 #2
So Jessa told it. And then she told the story of how their parents had met—a chance encounter at a harvest festival, their mother’s dress catching on their father’s buckle, the awkward dance that had followed and somehow led to marriage.
And then the story of their first home, a tiny cottage in a village so small it didn’t even have a name, where their mother had learned to weave and their father had learned to garden and they’d both learned that they were terrible at cooking but excellent at making each other laugh.
Somewhere in the middle of the third story, she realized that Tarek was watching her with an intensity that made her skin prickle. She faltered, losing the thread of the narrative.
“What?”
“Nothing.” But his eyes didn’t leave her face. “Keep going.”
She tried, but the words came slower now, distracted by the weight of his gaze. By the time she finished, the afternoon light was fading into evening and Dani had fallen asleep in her cocoon, her mouth slightly open, her breath soft and even.
He rose without a word and gathered the sleeping child in his arms. She followed as he carried her to the small bedroom, tucking her in with a gentleness that made her heart ache.
“She’s so small,” he murmured, standing over the bed. “When I first saw her, I thought—” He stopped, shaking his head.
“What?”
“That she was too frail to survive this world.” His voice was rough. “I was wrong. She’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever known.”
“She gets it from our mother.”
“She gets it from you.”
She had no response to that. She stood beside him in the doorway, watching her sister sleep, and felt the last of the fear that had been coiled in her chest finally begin to unwind.
She’s going to be all right. We’re all going to be all right.
She reached out and took Tarek’s hand.
His fingers closed around hers immediately, warm and sure. He looked down at her, a question in his glowing green eyes.
“It’s time,” she said softly.
“Time for what?”
She turned to face him fully, reaching up to cup his face in her hands. His skin was warm beneath her palms, the faint rasp of stubble rough against her fingers.
“Time for you to make me your mate.”
His breath caught. Something flickered in the depths of his eyes—hope and hunger and a fear so profound it made her heart clench.
“Jessa—”
“You told me you wanted my heart.” She rose up on her toes, brushing a gentle kiss against his lips. “You have it. You’ve had it for longer than I realized. Now I want yours.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking.” She drew back just far enough to meet his eyes. “I’m asking you to choose me. Not because you feel obligated, not because of any bargain or debt. Because you want to. Because you love me.”
The sound he made wasn’t quite human—a low, rumbling growl that seemed to vibrate through his entire body.
“I do,” he said, the words torn from somewhere deep inside him. “Gods help me, I do.”
“Then show me.”
He kissed her, fierce and claiming, his mouth hot and demanding against hers, his hands sliding down her back to pull her hard against him.
She gasped into the kiss and he swallowed the sound, his tongue sweeping past her lips to taste her, to claim her, to make her his in the most fundamental way possible.
Her back hit the wall of the corridor before she realized they’d moved. He caged her there with his body, one hand tangling in her hair to tilt her head back, the other gripping her hip with barely restrained force.
“The bedroom,” she managed when he finally let her breathe. “Not here.”
For a moment, she thought he might not listen.
The look in his eyes was wild, barely human, the glow of them bright enough to cast shadows on her face.
His beast was close to the surface—she could see it in the way his muscles coiled, the way his claws had extended to prick at her hip through the fabric of her dress.
Then he took a deep breath, visibly fighting for control, and nodded.
He swept her into his arms as if she weighed nothing at all, carrying her down the corridor to the larger bedroom with long, urgent strides. The door was barely closed behind them before he had her on the bed, his body covering hers, his mouth finding the sensitive curve of her throat.
“Jessa.” Her name was a promise on his lips. “I need you to be sure. Once I claim you, there’s no going back. You’ll be mine. Forever.”
“Good.” She pulled at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers. “I don’t want to go back. I want this. I want you.”
The shirt came off. Then her dress, his hands surprisingly gentle as he unlaced it, as if even now, even with his control stretched to breaking, he couldn’t bear to be rough with her. But she wasn’t interested in gentle.
She pulled him down to her, wrapping her legs around his waist, arching up to press her body against his. He groaned—a sound of pure, desperate need—and his control finally shattered.
What followed was fierce and tender in equal measure.
He worshipped her body with hands and mouth and tongue, until she was writhing beneath him, then gently flipped her over onto her hands and knees.
He bent over her, the head of his cock teasing her entrance, as he gently scraped his fangs over the sensitive curve of her neck.
“This is where I’m going to claim you.” His voice was low, guttural, barely intelligible. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she urged, trying to thrust back against him.
His laugh was pure male satisfaction. Then he slid into her in one smooth, powerful thrust. She cried out at the sudden, fullness of it, at the way it hit that perfect spot inside her that made her whole body sing.
He began to move, slow and deep at first, then faster, harder, as she pushed back to meet him, taking him as deep as she could, her fingers tangled in the furs beneath them.
They moved together in a rhythm as old as time, climbing higher and higher until the world fell away and there was nothing but sensation—heat and pressure and the building wave of something monumental.
She felt the moment he lost himself, felt his teeth graze the curve where her shoulder met her neck, felt the sharp, sweet sting as he bit down and claimed her as his mate.
The wave crested and broke, and she shattered beneath him, his name on her lips, but he kept moving, drawing out her pleasure, chasing his own.
His thrusts became more erratic, more desperate, until he came with a hoarse shout, pulsing inside her as he found his release.
His knot expanded, an overwhelming stretch that sent her over again.
For a long moment, they were both still, their mingled cries echoing in the quiet room, their bodies locked together. His breath was hot against her neck, his heart thundering against her back, and she could feel the faint, throbbing mark where he’d claimed her. She was his. And he was hers.
Afterwards, they lay tangled together in the furs, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her stomach.
“Are you all right?” His voice was rough, sated. “I didn’t hurt you?”
“No. You were perfect.”
“Hardly.” But she could hear the smile in his voice. He brushed his thumb across the mark he’d left on her shoulder. “This changes things, you know. Among my people, the mate bond is permanent. Unbreakable.”
“Good.”
“Jessa—”
“I mean it.” She turned her head to press a kiss to his palm. “I want something permanent. Something real. Something that lasts.”
“Even with a broken exile?” The question was light, but she could hear the vulnerability beneath it. “A monster who was cast out by his own people?”
“You’re not a monster. You’re a healer. A protector. The male I love.”
The last word hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning.
“Say that again.”
“The male I love.” She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Did you miss it the first time?”
“I want to hear it a thousand more times.” His arms tightened around her, pulling her close. “A million times. For the rest of our lives.”
“That can be arranged.”
His hand slid down over her stomach, teasing her already sensitive body, and soon they were moving together once more, slower this time, savoring each sensation, each whispered word of love and promise.