Chapter 9-Amrin
Was this what flying felt like?
That was the first coherent thought I had the second Sten’s mouth crashed against mine.
Not butterflies.
Not sparks.
Not fireworks.
No.
This felt bigger than all of that.
Like gravity itself had loosened its hold on me.
I’d expected him to be cold.
Maybe because of his coloring. People associated blue with cold things, didn’t they?
Ice.
Winter.
The sea beneath moonlight.
Storms rolling over dark water.
But Sten wasn’t cold at all.
He was heat.
Blistering, consuming heat.
The kind hidden at the center of blue flames—the hottest part of a fire.
And gods help me, I was burning alive inside his arms.
His body pressed tightly against mine as he pulled me flush to his chest, and every hard line of muscle beneath his clothes contrasted so sharply with my softness that it made me dizzy.
I noticed everything.
The strength in his arms.
The width of his chest beneath my palms.
The way his tail tightened possessively around my waist, as though holding me close had become instinct.
Monster.
The word should have frightened me more than it did.
He was absolutely a Monster.
Horns curling from his head.
Glowing eyes.
Tail wrapped tightly around me.
A growl vibrating through his chest that sounded far too dangerous to belong to anything human.
And yet—I’d never felt safer in my life.
That realization hit harder than the kiss itself.
Because my entire life I’d been taught Monsters were things to fear.
Things to avoid.
Things capable of destroying girls like me.
But Sten held me like I was precious.
Like he was terrified of hurting me.
And maybe that was why my heart cracked open for him completely right then.
His tongue slid against mine, deep and slow and devastatingly deliberate, and a soft sound escaped me before I could stop it.
Gods.
I had been kissed before.
A few awkward dates.
One disastrous situationship in my mid-twenties.
Drunken New Year’s mistakes that ended with me feeling emptier than before.
Nothing—nothing had ever felt like this.
Sten kissed me like he meant it.
Like he’d been starving for it.
Like he wanted to consume every lonely, aching part of me and replace it with something brighter.
Warmer.
Wanted.
His growl deepened when I moaned again, and I realized with sudden, breathless horror that he liked those sounds.
Liked what he was doing to me.
The realization sent heat spiraling low through my stomach.
I pressed closer without thinking.
Couldn’t help it.
Every inch of him fascinated me.
His skin beneath my fingertips felt impossibly warm, smooth in some places and rougher where muscle flexed beneath it.
The heat radiating from him seeped through my clothes until I felt drenched in him.
Moonlight and fire.
That was what kissing Sten felt like.
I remembered watching a documentary once during one of my sleepless nights back on Earth. Volcanoes. Magma.
Rare blue flames igniting sulfur dust in the darkness.
That.
That was the kind of heat wrapped around me now.
Beautiful enough to hypnotize.
Dangerous enough to destroy.
And I liked it.
Oh yes.
I really, really liked it.
Sten tasted like smoky spice and midnight and every terrible decision I wanted to make twice.
His chest rumbled again, some deep inhuman sound vibrating through me so intensely I thought my knees might actually give out beneath me.
If he hadn’t been holding me upright, I probably would have melted directly onto his floor.
There had always been something about him.
From the very beginning.
Even before I knew his voice could turn rough when emotional.
Before I knew he secretly designed impossible celestial mapping systems or carried my bag like it belonged in his hand.
I’d noticed him.
How could I not?
He was huge and beautiful and strange in ways that made him impossible to ignore.
Like one of those marble gargoyles perched atop old cathedrals—ancient, watchful, devastatingly carved.
But I’d never truly let myself believe he might want me back.
Not really.
Women like me didn’t get real life heroes like Sten to fall for them.
Not in real life.
Not outside romance novels and desperate fantasies.
Curvy, late-blooming Witches with mediocre magic and too much emotional baggage did not end up wrapped in the arms of terrifyingly gorgeous celestial Monsters.
And yet—his lips softened against mine with shocking tenderness, like he was savoring me instead of merely kissing me.
The contrast nearly wrecked me.
Power and restraint.
Sharp horns and soft mouth.
Monster and protector tangled together so seamlessly I could barely separate them anymore.
His tongue stroked deeper into my mouth, long and slow and delicious, and heat pooled between my thighs so suddenly I gasped against him.
Moisture gathered inside my panties embarrassingly fast.
Need coiled low and aching inside me until my body felt heavy with it.
Another moan slipped free.
Sten made that deep, otherworldly purring sound again.
Oh.
Oh, he definitely liked hearing me.
The realization made me tremble harder.
Eventually he slowed the kiss, though his hands never loosened entirely.
Somewhere along the way his palms had moved upward, cupping my cheeks carefully like I was something fragile.
Something precious.
I didn’t know when that happened.
Only that it made my chest ache.
“I’m sorry for what you endured, Luna,” he whispered against my mouth, forehead pressing gently to mine. “And I promise you—never again. You never have to be afraid again.”
My breath caught.
Because I wanted to believe him.
Gods, I wanted to.
But fear had lived inside me for so long it felt stitched into my bones.
Fear of failing.
Fear of disappointing people.
Fear of wanting too much from someone who would eventually realize I wasn’t enough.
And right then?
Right then I was terrified for entirely different reasons.
Because I was losing myself in him frighteningly fast.
What kind of hold could a no-magic Witch like me possibly have over someone like Sten?
The self-doubt rose automatically.
Ugly.
Familiar.
I hated it.
Hated that even while wrapped in his arms I still expected rejection, eventually.
I wanted to be stronger than that.
Wanted to be confident and fearless, and untouchable.
But I wasn’t.
I was just me.
Too emotional. Too soft. Too hopeful for my own good.
But maybe—maybe for once that could actually be enough.
Sten brushed one final closed-mouth kiss over my lips before easing back slightly.
That was when I noticed his tail still wrapped tightly around my waist.
Holy.
Fuck.
That was unbelievably hot.
The thick cerulean appendage flexed subtly against me, ending in a forked spike that looked dangerous enough to kill someone.
Instead, it held me like something cherished.
His chest rumbled again as my palms flattened instinctively against him.
Touching him felt addictive now.
Like my body had realized something important before my brain caught up.
“Your thoughts are loud, Luna,” he growled softly, tracing one finger from my brow to my chin.
I shivered hard.
“W-why did you kiss me?” I whispered.
I needed to hear it.
Needed to know this wasn’t pity or curiosity or some strange magical experiment.
“Did you not like it?”
“I did.” My voice came out breathless. “You know I did.”
“I did too,” he admitted, and the slow grin that followed nearly stopped my heart. “Very much.”
Gods.
That smile.
Beautiful and dangerous and entirely unfair.
“But we’ll take things slow,” he continued, voice gentler now. “At your pace.”
“My pace?” I repeated weakly. “Oh. Um. Right. Because of the project. The fake relationship.”
Even saying the word fake felt wrong now.
I licked my lips nervously.
His glowing cerulean eyes tracked the movement instantly.
Heat surged through me so sharply I had to clench my thighs together.
His nostrils flared slightly.
And suddenly I wondered—could he scent how badly I wanted him?
The thought nearly killed me.
I still didn’t fully know what he was.
Hobgoblin had been thrown around by that jerk Gunner. But that hardly explained the impossible gravity of his presence.
There was so much I didn’t know.
And somehow that only made me want him more.
“We will take this as slowly as you need,” he murmured, brushing strands of hair gently away from my face.
But the thing about it was—I didn’t want to take it slowly.
He kissed me again, eyes open, and I let him.
Hell, I participated willingly because how could I not?
The truth was, I caught feelings for this Monster.
And why shouldn’t I?
Sten was intelligent and sharp, and devastatingly sexy, and being around him felt exciting and comforting at the same time.
Dangerous combination.
The more time I spent with him, the more curious I became about him.
Because beneath all the horns and shadows and growling was someone surprisingly careful.
Someone lonely.
Someone who looked at me like I was extraordinary instead of disappointing.
“Ready to head back, Luna?” he asked after pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to my temple.
I nodded even though I absolutely did not want to leave.
Nothing sounded better than staying right there, wrapped in his arms and tail, while he kissed me until sunrise.
I changed out of his shirt—the one I always put on when tidying his room as per our agreement—in the bathroom reluctantly, lifting the fabric briefly to my nose before stepping back out.
It smelled like him now.
Smoke.
Night air.
Sten.
“Oh—I should probably wash this,” I murmured, clearing my throat and pretending I wasn’t just sniffing his clothes.
“No.”
The response came instantly.
Sharp.
Possessive.
He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“I mean, it’s fine. I’ll handle it.”
He practically snatched the shirt from my hands before rehanging it carefully beside the door.
And then—oh my gods.
He was blushing.
Not pink exactly—his blue skin darkened slightly across his cheeks—but unmistakably flustered.
Warmth flooded through me instantly.
The mighty celestial Monster got shy around me.
That realization settled somewhere deep inside my chest and bloomed.
And I thought maybe—maybe I really could have him.
The thought felt terrifying.
Impossible.
Wonderful.
We left together shortly after, walking side by side through the forbidden forest surrounding the Institute grounds.
Runevald at night felt different.
Older.
The ley lines beneath the island pulsed faintly beneath our feet while auroras shimmered overhead where the multiverse bled through the skies of Asgarheim.
Everything about this felt forbidden.
A struggling Witch and a celestial Monster wandering dangerous woods together after midnight.
And somehow—we fit anyway.
My crush on him had officially become something far more dangerous.
“So,” I asked carefully as we walked, “you mentioned the place you’re from before.”
“The realm of Asgard,” he replied.
Hmm.
“So, that explains the panty-melting accent you have sometimes,” I muttered before thinking.
Silence.
I froze.
Oh gods.
Why was I like this?
Sten stopped walking entirely, head tilting in that gorgeous confused way he had whenever I rambled myself into social disaster.
Then he laughed.
Actually laughed.
Deep and rough and beautiful enough to make my entire body light up.
Shit.
I bit my lip automatically.
Sten reached out immediately, thumb pulling my lip free before I could hurt myself.
“Don’t do that, Luna,” he chided gently.
“Can we please pretend I didn’t say that?”
“Pretend what didn’t happen? That a hot as fuck woman tells me my accent melts her panties? You expect me to just forget it?”
His eyes darkened slowly.
“Yep, that would be great,” I murmured, eyes wide as he stepped closer.
Oh, my body really liked it when he was close.
“Unfuckinglikely,” he growled.
My mouth fell open.
Did he just?
Did he just call me hot as fuck?
Heat exploded through me so fast I nearly stumbled.
And judging by the wicked satisfaction suddenly glowing in his eyes—this tall blue Monster knew exactly what he’d done to me.
He took my hand in his, and I was acutely aware of the difference in everything.
Size.
Strength.
Origin.
But there was also a rightness there. A sense of connection I’d never felt with anyone else.
So, for the first time in my life, I threw caution to the wind. I didn’t worry about what this would look like or how it would affect my family.
I thought of myself instead.
Of my wants and needs.
I thought of him.
And I held on.