My world has been nothing but shades of gray since the mont I opened my eyes.
A life I don't recognize.
Unfamiliar faces. Voices. Scents. Relentless pain.
Concerned friends, but can I trust them? Are they allies, or enemies playing a dangerous ga?
Crazy stories of a world gone mad, and endless silence where half my soul should reside.
It's as though I've been living in a haze of simring rage. At the world. At those who proclaim friendship. And this mysterious, alleged mate of mine, who cos in slling like sex and hope, with wide blue eyes and the golden hair of an angel.
She's too perfect.
I'm drawn to her. Every inch of clamors to soothe the grim lines around her lips, to take away the burdens weighing down her tiny shoulders. So part of insists that she's mine and I need to keep her, to hide her away from everyone's view until she's so wholly mine she can't even breathe without .
I want to possess her.
My lips brush against the crescent scar on Ava's neck. The constant tension in my muscles eases, replaced by a warmth I can't explain. Her scent envelops , that mix of honey and vanilla that feels like coming ho.
I'm so tired. Tired of second-guessing every word, every touch. Tired of searching for hidden motives behind kind gestures. Tired of feeling like a stranger in my own skin.
But here, with Ava in my arms, the world makes sense again.
Her soft gasp as I trace the scar with my tongue sends a shiver down my spine. My hands tighten on her waist, pulling her closer. I want to morize every curve, every freckle, every scar.
"Lucas," she whispers, her voice trembling.
I lift my head, eting her gaze. Those blue eyes, wide and vulnerable, hold a universe of emotions. I want to understand everything about her.
"I'm here," I murmur, though I'm not sure if I'm reassuring her or myself.
My fingers trail up her spine, feeling the delicate bumps of her vertebrae. She's so small, so fragile in my arms. Yet there's a strength in her that calls to sothing primal within .
I've been living in a world of shadows since I woke up. Everything's been muted, distant. But Ava... she's a burst of color in my grayscale existence. A ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
For the first ti since opening my eyes to this unfamiliar life, I feel anchored. Grounded. The constant buzz of suspicion in the back of my mind quiets, replaced by a certainty I can't explain.
This is right. She is right.
The entire world might burn, but she's my everything.
I know it now, deep in my bones.
She feels so damn good in my arms—right where she belongs. Her warmth seeps into , chasing away the chill of uncertainty, of a life in limbo.
I'm ravenous for her. Insatiable. Like a starving man at a feast, I'm desperate to gorge myself on her.
Her skin is silk under my fingers as I smooth her hair away from her face. My thumb brushes her cheek, reveling in the softness. Everything about Ava is a temptation I can't resist.
That gasp again as I lower her onto the bed. Her eyes are as deep and dark as the ocean as she stares at .
Willing.
Waiting.
Soaked with desire. With longing.
It takes everything in not to just take what I need from her. What my body is screaming for.
Her hair tumbles over my arm as I lean down. Her lips are so damn sweet. So soft. The mont they touch mine, sothing in ignites. This kiss is a brand, searing into my very soul.
I could spend a lifeti just kissing her. Exploring every contour of her mouth. Tasting her. morizing every nuance of her.
But my body has other ideas. Hands of their own, they wander, mapping her curves. Exploring what's mine to claim. Ava arches into , a soft moan caught between our lips. The sound goes straight to my cock. I ache for her.
For the feel of her tightening around . For the mont when we're so tangled up that I don't know where I end and she begins.
This is where I'm ant to be. Here, in this bed, with her.
It's like the rest of the world falls away, leaving only her. This mont.
My mouth trails down her jaw. She shifts, restless beneath , the movent causing the bed to creak. I burn to feel her under . To watch her expression as I sink into her. To hear her cry out my na.
Her hands slide under my shirt, nails scraping lightly against my back. Everything in tightens at that touch.
"Why am I naked when you still have your clothes on?" Her whisper against my lips has groaning.
"I thought you needed to regain your energy." But I'm no fool; it takes two seconds to yank my shirt over my head.
The way she looks at , hungry and heated, has that primal part of racing to the forefront. A low growl rumbles in my chest.
"I'm energized."
The growl builds in my chest, a bass rumble of need and possession as I yank her toward . Ava's fingers dig into my shoulders, her lips opening under mine as I plunder her mouth. This kiss isn't soft or gentle—it's a claiming. A branding.
Mine.
I can taste her need, her desire. This want is a living thing, snarling and wild between us. I want to devour her. Brand her as mine. Mark her so every male within a mile's radius knows she's taken.
Taken by .
The heat between us is consuming . Consuming her. Leaving nothing behind. We're just two fuses in this fire.
I feel the spark as her fingers brush against my neck. A jolt shoots through , straight to my cock, straining and aching for her touch.
"I can't hold back, little mate," I warn her, with the last vestiges of sanity at my disposal.
"Then don't."
Those two words make up the sexiest thing I've ever heard.
The beast within roars to the forefront, demanding what's mine.
Teeth bared, I tear my mouth from hers, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. The crescent scar on her neck is a target, a brand that calls to sothing dark and primal within . I lick and nip at the delicate skin, growling as her head falls back, baring her throat to .
"Lucas," she pants, her fingers tightening in my hair.
Claiming.
Possessing.
I want to mark every inch of her. To leave my scent on her, a declaration to any rivals that she's taken. Mine.
The rough fabric of my pants abrades my skin as she tugs them down. The air is cool against my heated flesh. But then her hand wraps around , the heat of her palm like a brand. My back arches, driving deeper into her fist.
A groan rips from my throat. Her other hand joins the first, stroking . Her touch is hesitant at first, then determined. Hungry.
A mate's touch.
My hips jerk involuntarily, seeking more. My hands splay on her thighs, feeling the soft skin there. I burn to explore every inch of her. To learn every response. Every sound she makes.
Mine.
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