Chapter Thirteen
Ari
Not Yet
I lay on his chest and watch the sun rise. His heart beats steadily beneath my ear. There is so much left unsaid between us that I don’t have a single clue where to start.
He stirs. “I can hear you thinking.”
I chuckle. “Lots to think about.”
He rises and positions himself against the headboard, drawing me into his muscular chest once more. “Do you want to talk about it?”
For a man who radiates dominance like a second skin, Malichai is being ... careful. And it guts me.
“I don’t forgive you,” I say again, mostly to remind myself. I angle my body so I can face him instead of being stuck under his chin. “But I want to understand.”
That makes his eyes flicker—dark, molten heat just under the surface. “Ask me anything.”
I ask the one question I’ve been too scared to speak.
“Why didn’t you just let me feel it?”
He doesn’t answer immediately. Just stares into the distance like it holds the answer he needs. Even though we both know he is the only one with answers.
“I thought I was protecting you,” he finally says, voice low. “But I was protecting myself, too. If you never felt it ... you could never reject it.”
“You thought I’d run?” It hurts to ask the question, but this is my chance to figure out what the hell was going through his thick skull when he had a witch put a spell on his mate.
“I knew you would.” His words hold a sad confidence that guts me, but I push on.
I swallow hard. “You didn’t trust me.”
“That’s not it,” he says, rubbing a hand down his face. “I didn’t trust that I deserved you.”
Something in me stutters to a stop. Because that isn’t what I expected. And it makes it so much harder to hate him.
“I was never going to be the perfect fae girl your world expects,” I whisper. “Even without the human blood. I talk too much. I laugh too loud. I dye my hair stupid colors and forget to fold laundry for weeks and I eat dry cereal for dinner more often than any adult should admit.”
He looks at me like I’ve just described his favorite constellation.
“I know,” he says.
“And you still want me?”
His eyes burn. “I have only ever wanted you.”
I crawl into his lap and straddle him. Both of us are so broken by what our parents and the world have done to us that we would rather hurt ourselves than let anyone close enough to do it. But I don’t want to live that way anymore.
“You really don’t play fair, do you?” I ask, cupping his cheeks in my palms.
His smile sharpens. “Not when it comes to you.”
I kiss him. Softly, exploring what we are slowly allowing to grow between us. He may have started this journey on his own, feeling things without me. But now I feel it all.
The bond. Pulsing in the air between us. Calling me closer. Daring me. Daring us.
I deepen the kiss and his breathing shifts. The sheet covering me falls away and my bare breasts press against his chest. A rumble builds in his chest, his dragon sharing his approval of the situation.
“I still don’t forgive you,” I say when I pull away. “But I want my mate.”
“You’ll forgive me eventually,” he says, slipping his erection inside me.
My head falls back as pleasure and heat burns through my veins. He doesn’t move or thrust but allows me to rock my hips in slow circles. And now I can feel the heat pouring off him, magic, desire, and restraint wrapped around his spine like a vice.
“Tell me to stop,” I whisper.
His voice is hoarse. “I can’t.”
“You have to,” I say, but I’m already reaching for him.
“Ari...”
“Tell me you don’t want me.”
“I’ll never lie to you again.”
I slide my hand up his chest, over his heart, which is thundering like a storm trapped in a cage. His head dips, eyes locked on mine, lips inches from my own.
“Then kiss me. Fuck me. Breed me,” I say.
“If I do,” he growls, “I won’t let you go.”
My pulse stutters. “Good.”
And then he does. It’s not soft. It’s not slow.
It’s heat and hunger and years of repressed emotion igniting all at once.
His hands are on my waist in seconds, lifting me up, pressing me against him like he can’t bear even a breath of distance.
My legs wrap around his hips. My hands tangle in his hair.
His mouth claims mine like he’s been starving and I’m the first taste of salvation.
And gods... It’s everything. I feel the bond surge. Not break. Not seal. But demand. The fall has started. And soon? There will be no stopping it.