Avery
Tobias goes completely still, and for one horrible moment, I think I misread the lingering glances, the unsteady hands, and the way he looks at me like I’m precious and breakable.
Then a quiet, almost pained sound escapes him, and he’s kissing me back like I might disappear if he wants it too much.
I press closer, and my palm finds his chest. His heart slams against my hand, and the sound he makes—half groan, half protest—vibrates through me.
Eventually he breaks away, his forehead dropping to mine, his breathing ragged.
“I need you to understand that the memories in my head…” He swallows, then continues.
“They’re too much sometimes. I’ve always been able to manage them, even at their worst, but they push hardest when my walls are down, and you…
” His thumb traces my jaw, featherlight.
“You make me want to stop building walls. And I don’t know what that means for what’s living behind them. ”
“I trust you,” I tell him, not having to think twice about it. “I just let you into places in my mind that no one’s ever seen before, and right now, I trust you more than anyone.”
The pain in his eyes makes him look so vulnerable and lost that I kiss him again, melting into him, my fingers curling into his shirt.
And for the first time since Halloween, I forget about Oliver, Revenants, and whoever violated my memories.
Instead, I lose myself in the moment and let myself feel.
He pulls me closer, and the kiss slows and sweetens. He smells like sage and parchment, and when I breathe him in, my whole body loosens.
I want more.
The realization hits me like a wave—sudden, overwhelming, and undeniable. Because I want more than kisses and gentle touches. I want him. All of him.
The old Avery would already be second guessing herself and running scared. But this version of me has emptiness where the bond used to be, and the only time it felt full was when Tobias’s hands were on my skin and his mind was in mine.
I don’t want to let that go. So, I let my hand drift lower, fingertips brushing his chest, his stomach, and then hovering at his waistband.
His body goes still.
“You don’t have to…”
“I want to,” I say, and it feels like the truest thing I’ve said in years. “I’ve never done this before, but I want to. Now. With you.”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I can’t believe they came from me. Because I don’t do things like this. I sit back and do nothing until the moment’s passed, and then I’m alone and wondering what would have happened if I’d been brave enough to act.
I’m tired of being that version of myself. All it got me was a broken heart and stolen memories.
“Your first time should be special,” he finally says, although his breathing shallows, like his willpower is holding on by a thread. “Not on an ancient couch in a crumbling tower.”
“With a man who looked into my mind and didn’t run from what he saw.
” I brush my thumb over the strong line of his cheekbone, and he leans into my touch, his eyes fluttering closed before he opens them again.
“Who understands what it’s like to carry something too heavy alone, and who trembles when he touches me because he’s afraid of hurting me.
I can’t think of anyone more special than that. ”
He glances down, then looks back at me, the vulnerability shining in his eyes so intense that my breath catches.
“It would be my first time too,” he admits.
“People don’t exactly line up to be intimate with someone who can pull their deepest secrets from their minds.
Not like I would ever do that without their permission—it only happens when I want it to.
But no one’s ever trusted that. They didn’t want to risk it, which meant they didn’t want to risk me. ”
The admission settles over me like a weight. All those borrowed vampire memories of hunting, feeding, and taking—and underneath them, there’s a man who’s never been chosen.
He and I are so similar it makes my heart hurt.
“Tobias.” I cup his face in my hands, forcing him to meet my eyes. “I’m not afraid of you. I want you—all of you—even the parts you think are broken.”
His eyes squeeze shut, and when he opens them, all that careful control has shattered. He looks young and exposed, stripped down to someone he hasn’t let anyone see in a very long time.
Then his hands find my hips, his grip tightening, as if his decision has been made.
“If we do this, you have to be in control. The memories, they make me…” He swallows hard, then shakes whatever he was about to say away. “If you’re on top, you can set the pace, and I want you to have that power. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“And if anything feels wrong, you tell me immediately.”
“I will.”
He exhales, and the sound is shaky. Then his hands are finding the hem of my shirt, and I lift my arms, letting this man I just met undress me in a haunted tower that’s falling into the sea, and somehow, I feel safer than I have in weeks.
“How are you real?” he asks, and the wonder in his eyes makes any doubts I had disappear in a heartbeat.
“I could say the same to you.” The words come out before I’m fully aware I’m speaking them. “I spent years being invisible to the only person I’ve ever loved, and you’ve seen more of me in one night than he did in years.”
His forehead drops to mine, his breathing unsteady. “When I was in your mind, I felt your pain every time he looked past you,” he says, his thumbs tracing circles on my hips. “And I kept thinking—how could he not see this? How could anyone have you right there and look the other way?”
There’s nothing I can say that would be enough.
So I kiss him instead, pouring everything I can’t articulate into the press of my lips against his.
We undress each other slowly, piece by piece, and by the time we’re both bare, my heart’s pounding so hard I can barely hear the waves crashing outside.
Then he’s pulling me into his lap, and I’m straddling him, my knees pressing into the worn cushions on either side of his hips.
We’re chest to chest, skin to skin, close enough that I can feel his heart slamming against mine.
He’s hard against my stomach, and the sensation makes me gasp.
This is real. This is happening. I’m naked in the lap of a man I met two weeks ago, in a tower at the edge of the sea, and the careful girl who always made decisions that were safe and expected is nowhere to be found.
I don’t know where she went, but I don’t think I want her back.
“Are you okay?” Concern fills his eyes. “If you’re not ready… if you changed your mind…”
“I haven’t changed my mind.” I swallow hard and hold his gaze. “I want this. I want you.”
He exhales, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.
“Then whenever you’re ready.” His hands settle on my hips, steady and supportive. “We’ll go as slow as you need.”
I reach between us and wrap my fingers around him, positioning him at my entrance.
My hand’s shaking, my heart beating so hard I’m sure he can feel it through my thighs. This is the point of no return. After this, Tobias Cane is written into my body permanently, and the cautious girl who almost backed out of coming here tonight walks out as someone different.
I want to be someone different. Because I refuse to keep being the girl who settles for almost. This is real, this is me choosing someone who’s choosing me back, and for once in my life, I’m going to have a moment that’s mine instead of being the person who’s always watching from the sidelines.
Before I can think about it further, Tobias’s hand leaves my hip and finds mine, lacing our fingers together and squeezing. It’s such a small thing, but his grip is steady, and when I squeeze back, his eyes go soft and open in the way that only his can, and I know he’s as scared as I am.
So, I keep my eyes locked on his as I lower myself to take him inside me.
There’s pressure at first, then a stretch that burns more than I expected. The discomfort makes me pause, and my fingers dig into his shoulders, my breath coming in shallow bursts.
“Take your time.” He’s barely holding on, but his hands are gentle and grounding. “We can stop if you need to.”
“I don’t want to stop.” I breathe deeply, letting my body adjust. It hurts more than I thought it would, and my eyes sting, and I’m not sure if that’s the pain or the overwhelming reality that I’m actually doing this.
He holds perfectly still beneath me, shaking with the effort of not moving. His eyes are fixed on my face, searching, like he’s waiting for me to realize what I’m doing and pull away.
I don’t want to pull away. I don’t want to be the girl who stops at the edge and wonders what was on the other side.
I want to finally live.
So, I sink down further.
A gasp tears out of me, and I stop for a few seconds, my thighs quivering as my body stretches around him.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispers, his breath cool against my cheek.
“I will,” I promise, breathing through it as I continue lowering myself inch by inch.
When I finally take all of him, the fullness is so overwhelming that I have to stay still and center myself.
Slowly, the discomfort fades, replaced by the feeling of him inside me, filling spaces I didn’t know were empty. And when I look at him, I’m slammed with the feeling that he’s entered my soul as well as my mind.
This is what it feels like to be chosen.
“Avery.” He shudders beneath me, and a soft groan escapes him, like he’s fighting an internal war. “You can’t look at me like that and expect me to hold still.”
“Sorry.” My lungs tighten, and I start to look away.
His hand catches my chin, turning me back to face him.
“You don’t need to be sorry. I just want this to be good for you. And when you look at me like that, I forget how to think.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” The admission comes out quieter than I intended. “I want to make this good for you too, but I don’t know how.”
“You’re already—” He breaks off, then starts again. “I’m hanging on by a thread here, and you haven’t even moved yet.”