Chapter 32
32
Anora
I sink into the warm water, letting it pull me in, melting the ache out of my muscles. This—this is what I needed. For once, I feel a little peace. My hand breaks the surface, and I stare at it, flexing my fingers. It looks normal now, but the memory of every bone shattering, every nerve screaming... it’s still there, crawling under my skin. Hazel healed it, sure, but even magic can’t erase that kind of pain—the kind that makes you pray for death.
And all for that damn key Amir kept strapped to his wrist. The same key that had me laid out, barely breathing. I can still see the look on her face... She wanted it so badly. She was ready to kill for it.
“Anora...” His voice catches me off guard, my head snapping up. Amir stands over the tub, staring, though I can’t tell for how long. I try to smile at him, but what’s the point? He can probably sense where my head is anyway—always reading me like an open book.
He kneels next to the tub, dipping his hand into the water. He grabs the washcloth and starts running it along my legs, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I lean back, letting him help, too exhausted to argue. To be honest, I don’t even want to. The way his hands move, the deliberate care as he washes me... It calms me. Anchors me. And God, I need that right now.
He pauses, glancing up with a small smile. “I’ll clean you up fast so you can eat. I don’t want your food to get cold,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “I don’t mind warming it again for you, though.”
“I don’t care about the food,” I mutter before I can stop myself. My lips press shut as soon as the words slip out. Regret punches me in the chest, and I drop my gaze, the familiar burn of tears building.
“Anora, please.” His tone shifts, gentler, urgent. His hand reaches over, cupping my cheek, and he tilts my face toward him, forcing our eyes to meet.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out, the first tear sliding free as my voice cracks. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
He sighs and shakes his head. “Oh, angel...” is all he says before he leans in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. The action is so soft, so deliberate, it almost breaks me.
Amir moves quickly after that, washing me off without a word. When he finishes, he grabs a fluffy towel, holding it out for me as I climb out of the water. He wraps it snugly around me, warm and comforting, before guiding me into the bedroom. Everything he does is careful, routine. He helps me dry off, dresses me in clean clothes, his hands never lingering, never crossing the line. When I finally sit on the edge of the bed, he grabs a tray from the nightstand and sets it in my lap.
“Eat,” he says simply, sitting beside me, watching.
I dig in without thinking, barely glancing at what’s in front of me. When I start with the salad instead of the heavier dishes, he smiles, and for some reason, that makes me laugh. A real laugh—not forced, not strained. Just natural.
Still, it doesn’t take long for my mind to circle back. I stab my fork into the salad. “The key,” I say, pointing the utensil at him mid-bite. “Why did she want it so bad?”
His entire body tenses, shoulders stiffening. He sighs, avoiding my gaze, but I don’t back down. I glare at him until he caves.
“It’s the key to her spell book,” he finally admits. His voice drops, quieter now, almost cautious.
My fork pauses halfway to my mouth. “Her spell book? What does that mean?”
He shifts on the bed, clearly uncomfortable, but he doesn’t try to dodge the question this time. “When we were created by Fate, she gave us two responsibilities. The first was to protect her ancient spell book—a book containing some of the darkest and most dangerous magic in existence. Only Aya, my sister, was allowed access to it. The second task was to maintain the balance here on Earth.”
That catches my attention. “Balance?”
“We were supposed to help humans. Guide them. Push them toward creating a better, more sustainable world. A world without corruption, greed, or destruction.” He shakes his head, his expression darkening. “But they didn’t listen. No matter how much we tried to steer them in the right direction, they just... didn’t listen. War, pollution, lies—every step forward, they’d take two back.”
I can see it now—the frustration in his eyes. But it’s not aimed at me. It’s distant, focused somewhere in the past. He exhales, running a hand through his locs.
“Aya... she grew angry. Angry at the humans, angry at me, angry at Fate. Nothing was working. No matter how much we tried, we failed. And eventually...” His voice softens, dropping lower. “Eventually, she did the one thing we promised Fate we’d never do.”
“Dark magic,” I say, and Amir looks at me, his eyes heavy with regret. He nods slowly, his expression almost painful.
“I tried everything, Anora, but I couldn’t stop her.”
“I remember the rest,” I tell him. I piece it together—the things he’s told me before, the gaps now filling themselves in. The dark magic. His death. His rebirth. It all makes sense now. I set my fork down, and he groans softly, clearly annoyed I’ve stopped eating, but I don’t care. I reach out and place my hand over his.
“Anora, there’s something else I need to tell you,” he starts, but I shake my head.
“Not tonight, Amir. You’ve dragged yourself through enough of your past already. I asked about the key, and you gave me the truth. That’s all I wanted,” I say, my voice firm but soft.
But his eyes stay locked on mine, the sadness in them cutting deep.
“Anora...” His voice is barely a whisper. “You need to know?—”
“Know what?” I interrupt him, my tone sharper than I intend. “Whatever it is, it’s not going to change how I feel about you. So stop worrying.”
That doesn’t seem to help. He groans softly when I move the tray off my lap, setting it on the end table, and slide closer to him.
“Anora, you need to eat,” he argues, his voice quiet but insistent.
“No,” I bite back, tightening my grip on his hand. “You don’t believe me. ”
He doesn’t look at me.
“It’s not that,” he says after a beat, his voice low. “You don’t understand. I’ve done other things. Things...” He doesn’t finish the sentence.
“Stop it,” I snap. “You can’t make me stop loving you, Amir. You just can’t. It’s not going to happen. I’ve loved you for years.”
I almost regret saying it as soon as it’s out. His head snaps up, his eyes boring into mine so intensely it makes me flinch. He’s never looked at me like this before. It’s raw, unfiltered, and it scares me a little.
I bite the inside of my cheek, unsure if I’ve made a mistake. Maybe this is moving too fast for him. But then again, he’s told me he loves me more than once already. What did he think—that I’d wait forever to say it back?
“Amir,” I start, but I don’t even get the chance to finish. His lips crash into mine, the sudden force knocking the air out of my lungs.
It’s immediate, all-consuming. He moves so fast I barely have time to process what’s happening before his hands are on me, and he’s pushing me back against the bed. The way his body presses into mine, the weight of him, the hunger behind the kiss—it’s like something inside him has finally snapped.
I don’t fight it. I don’t want to. I want this. I want him. If this is what it takes for him to stop holding back, to finally drop the gentle, hesitant act, then so be it. I’d do this again and again.
When I break away to catch my breath, he dips his head to my neck, his lips brushing against my skin.
“I love you, Amir,” I murmur, almost breathless. “I’ll always love you.”
That seems to push him further. He growls against my neck, and the second his teeth skim my skin, a wave of sensation rushes through me. It’s brief—there’s no pressure, no broken skin—but the feeling lingers, enough to leave me trembling beneath him.
Amir’s lips brush against my cheek, his voice low and strained. “Anora, you have no idea how long I’ve yearned to hear those words—a true declaration of love from my fated mate. I’m losing control.”
“Good,” I say, my voice steady, challenging him. He growls against me, grinding his hips against mine. A gasp escapes me before I can stop it.
“You really want to break me, huh?” he says, his hands moving to my breasts, pinching my nipples through the thin fabric of my nightgown.
“Yes,” I whisper, breathless. He grinds into me again, harder this time. Then, without warning, he tears the gown right off me. The fabric rips apart sharply, and suddenly, I’m exposed, left in nothing but my panties.
He sits up, his eyes locking onto mine. Hunger. Lust. Possession. It’s all there, written across his face. He raises his hand, fingers poised as if he’s about to snap them. A wave of uneasy anticipation rushes through me, my mind flashing back to the last time—a single snap had sent me over the edge, leaving me trembling beneath him. I brace myself, shutting my eyes tight.
Snap.
I flinch, but nothing happens. His laugh is dark and low, almost mocking. When I open my eyes, he’s completely naked, kneeling over me.
“Not tonight, angel,” he murmurs, his lips crashing into mine with a hunger that leaves me breathless.
“I wanted to do this right,” he says between kisses. “Make love to you at the perfect time, the perfect moment. But the universe keeps trying to take you from me. I can’t let that happen. And you—this little goddess—you’ve taunted me, wrapped your fingers around my heart. It’s yours now. And you’re mine. All of you.”
I can feel him pressing against me—thick, hard, and imposing. My body shudders. His lips move lower, grazing my neck, my collarbone. Then his mouth finds my breast, and I gasp as his tongue flicks over my nipple. My back arches, heat surging through me.
He’s relentless. Sucking, licking, teasing—his tongue swirls over one nipple while his hand squeezes the other, pinching just hard enough to drive me wild. Every touch, every motion sends sparks through me. I pant, desperate, trying to pull him closer, but when I reach for his face, he slaps my hand away.
“No, Anora,” he says, his voice sharp, his eyes burning into mine. “You wanted this. You wanted me to lose control, remember? You’ve given me the one thing I’ve craved—your heat. Now, I’m taking the rest. First your pussy. Then your body. All of it. You’re mine.”
“Amir!” I cry out as his mouth returns to my breast, sucking harder. My head thrashes against the pillow, my body writhing beneath him. He’s not gentle. Not this time. There’s no restraint, no hesitation—just raw, unfiltered desire.
When he finally releases my breasts, I’m trembling, weak, and flushed. He moves lower. His hands grip my thighs, spreading them wide. His eyes rake over me, dark and intense. My panties are still on, but only for a moment—he rips them away with one sharp motion, the fabric shredding like paper.
He doesn’t move right away. He just stares at me, his hands resting on my thighs. His intense gaze makes me squirm. I start to close my legs, scooting back, unsure of what he’s thinking.
“Stop,” he says, catching my thighs and pushing them apart again.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice shaking.
“Admiring you,” he says simply. “Taking in the reality that you’re mine now, Anora.” His tone is soft, but there’s an edge to it, a possessiveness that makes my heart race.
He lowers his head between my legs, his breath warm against my skin. “Lie back down,” he commands. I hesitate. Before I can respond, something moves behind him—a long, thick tail with a black, fluffy tip. My eyes widen.
“You have a tail?” I manage, my voice barely a whisper.
He glances up at me, his golden eyes locking onto mine. “Yes, Anora. My lion. You met him earlier.” The tail brushes over my stomach, soft and deliberate. “He wants to play with you. Say yes.”
The tail moves up to my lips, the tassel brushing against me gently. My breath catches, but before I can process it, the tail moves to my chest and shoves me back onto the bed. I gasp, startled by the sudden force.
“I told you to lie down,” Amir says, his voice firm, commanding.
My pulse races. He’s dominant, completely in control, and I can’t deny how much I like it.