Evaline:
The room was swallowed in absolute darkness. Not even a crack of light slipped through the heavy curtains, and for a mont, I wondered if I had lost my sight entirely. My dizzy head wasn’t helping either - everything was hazy, muffled, and blurred.
My chest constricted.
Ethan...
The na didn’t leave my lips, but it rang in my mind as certainty crashed over . Who else could this be? Who else would make my very blood hum and my bones ache with awareness? He was my mate. It was finally confird.
The realization struck harder than any blow I had ever taken in my life. For a heartbeat, I felt weightless. Then his arms tightened around , strong and steady, and suddenly I wasn’t falling anymore.
The mate bond burned between us like fire and frost all at once - every nerve alight, every sense screaming. My breath caught as my body was pressed against his chest, hard and unyielding, and then his face lowered into the crook of my neck. The deep rumble that left his chest wasn’t just a growl... it was a claim, a sound that sent shivers racing down my spine.
He didn’t say anything, but I didn’t need words to understand. He was just as lost in this as I was.
And then, after what felt like forever yet was only seconds, his lips brushed my neck, and he whispered one single word - his voice low, deep, raw... almost unrecognizable.
"Mate."
I swore the world stopped.
The way he spoke it, ignited sothing I had never known existed inside . That one word made feel whole and fractured at the sa ti, made my lungs seize and my heart pound so violently I was certain he could hear it.
My skin turned hypersensitive, tingling where his lips had touched, as if he had branded .
I hadn’t even recovered when I felt the slow trail of feathery kisses along the side of my neck. My body tensed, but not from fear... from sothing else, sothing I couldn’t na. Each kiss was like a spark, each touch a reminder that I wasn’t imagining this.
When his mouth finally reached mine, I froze.
It was a hesitant kiss. Barely there, just a brush, a taste... almost as though he thought I would run. His lips lingered but didn’t claim. He waited, testing the line.
mories of the clearing flashed in my mind - of stepping back, of the uncertainty that had twisted in my chest. I had run then, too afraid to let him close, too afraid to feel.
But this ti was different.
This ti, I didn’t want to run.
I wanted him to kiss .
I wanted to know if the whispers I had heard in the packhouse, the giggles of the girls after stolen kisses, the descriptions in romance books about lips eting lips - was it really that crazy? That dizzying? That unforgettable?
Before I could second-guess myself, my body betrayed . My lips moved against his.
And I kissed him back.
The second I did, the kiss changed. His hesitation shattered. The bond surged alive, wrapping us both in heat, pulling tighter and tighter. His lips grew surer, firr, moving against mine with a hunger that made gasp. He tasted like warmth, like fire after a storm, like everything I never dared to hope I would deserve.
My hands fisted in the front of his shirt, clinging as though I would collapse without the anchor of him. My mind was a ss, scattered between panic and exhilaration. My heart scread yes, while fear whispered too much.
But the mate bond drowned out everything else.
Every ti his lips pressed deeper into mine, I felt myself unraveling. His kiss wasn’t just a kiss - it was a promise, a brand, a tether pulling us together so tightly I couldn’t tell where he ended and I began.
And it wasn’t just the kiss. It was the way his hand cupped the back of my head, gentle but unyielding, holding in place as though he couldn’t bear to let go. The way his other arm circled my waist, crushing against him, making feel small and safe and wanted all at once.
The world beyond that dark room ceased to exist.
It was just us.
Just this.
When I broke away for air, I was trembling. My lips felt swollen, tingling, and I knew his were no different. His forehead pressed to mine, his breath ragged, his chest rising and falling like he had just fought a war.
"Mate..." he groaned, sounding desperate, reverent, starved.
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. My throat was tight, my voice gone. Instead, I leaned back in, greedy, needing more. His mouth crashed back to mine as though he had been waiting for that very invitation.
This kiss was wilder. He devoured , and I let him. My lips parted without thought, without hesitation, welcoming him, needing to feel him closer. My heart raced, my stomach twisted, and yet... there was no fear. Not anymore.
Only want.
Only need.
Only him.
My mind spun as if I had drunk too much, but my body knew exactly what it wanted. When his hands began to roam, I gasped, every nerve firing under his touch. His fingers brushed the curve of my waist, and my body betrayed again - arching closer, demanding more.
The touch was tentative at first, almost questioning. But when I didn’t push him away, when I didn’t flinch... he grew bolder.
His hand slipped beneath the hem of my oversized hoodie, his palm resting on my waist. The sensation was electric. I thought I would scream from the sheer intensity of it. My breath stuttered and my pulse thundered in my ears.
I should have stopped him.
I should have pushed his hand away.
But I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
Instead, I let him.
I let him explore the curve of my waist, my body trembling as his touch burned into . And then - before I realized what was happening - he gripped the fabric of my hoodie and pulled it upward in one swift motion.
The oversized hoodie slipped over my head and was tossed carelessly aside.
I stood before him in nothing but a thin tank top and jeans, my chest rising and falling rapidly, my skin flushed.
And my world tilted, because I wasn’t afraid.
Not anymore.
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