Seraphina
I thought the fire would quiet.
It didn't.
It built.
Worse than before. Hotter. Deeper.
Like a curse crawling through my blood.
I tried everything — pacing the room, cold water, curling into the silken sheets — but my skin still burned. My thighs still trembled. My body still ached. For him.
And worse?
I could feel him through the bond. Kael. On the other side of the fortress, trying not to think about me — and failing. His restraint, his torment, his need, it all poured into me through the invisible tether between us.
And gods, it made it worse.
I wanted to claw off my own skin.
The heat was feral now, pulsing between my legs, dripping down my thighs, tightening my chest until I could barely breathe. I pressed my hand there, trying to ease the tension, but it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough.
Only one thing could fix this.
Him.
Before I even made the decision, my body moved. My bare feet hit the cold stone. Kael's coat was still wrapped around me, but it smelled like him. Like smoke, cedarwood, and sin. I pulled it tighter, like it could hold me together.
Then I opened the door.
And he was there.
Leaning against the opposite wall, head down, fists clenched, chest rising and falling like he'd just fought off a dozen wolves.
His eyes snapped up the moment the door opened.
And his gaze…
Ravaged me.
He drank me in — bare legs, flushed skin, the way his coat clung to my curves. His jaw flexed. His nostrils flared. His entire body stiffened like he was one second from exploding.
"Seraphina," he rasped.
My knees nearly buckled just from the sound of my name in that voice.
I stepped into the hallway. "I need you."
He closed his eyes for half a second. When they opened again, they were glowing.
"I know."
And then he moved.
He didn't ask for permission. Didn't hesitate.
Kael stormed forward, yanked me into his arms, and crushed his mouth to mine in a kiss so deep, so filthy, I forgot where I was. My legs wrapped around his waist before I even realized he'd lifted me.
He slammed me against the stone wall and kissed me harder — tongue licking into my mouth like he owned it. I moaned, grinding into him, hands tangled in his hair, desperate.
The bond flared, screaming in both of us now.
He tore his lips from mine, chest heaving. "I told myself I wouldn't do this."
I kissed along his jaw, whispering, "Then break the rule."
He groaned, deep and broken. "You're not thinking straight."
"Yes, I am," I gasped. "You're the only thing I'm thinking about."
He cursed, his mouth dragging down my throat. "You're playing with fire."
"Then burn me."
His hands grabbed my hips, grinding me against the hard bulge in his pants. My head fell back, a cry escaping me. Kael hissed.
"You're dripping," he growled. "Fucking soaked through."
He carried me — still wrapped around him — into the room and dropped me onto the massive bed. I bounced once, hair spilling across the pillows, chest heaving.
Kael stalked toward me like the predator he was, eyes gleaming.
"Strip," he commanded.
I froze, heat flushing my cheeks.
He raised a brow. "Want relief? Then give me the view I've earned."
My hands trembled, but I obeyed. I slipped his coat off slowly, exposing my bare chest, my flushed skin, the way my thighs glistened in the moonlight.
Kael sucked in a breath so sharp it cut the silence in half.
"Lie back. Spread your legs. Show me what's mine."
I did.
He knelt at the edge of the bed, his large hands gripping my knees, pushing them apart until I was completely exposed to him.
"Look at you," he murmured, voice thick. "So wet, so ready. All for me."
He leaned down, his breath teasing my core.
And then he licked me.
One long, slow stroke of his tongue that made me scream. My back arched, thighs trembling. He growled in response, the vibration making me jerk.
"Kael—"
"Stay still," he ordered. "I'm not done tasting you."
He feasted on me like he'd starved for a thousand years. His tongue circled and flicked, his fingers spreading me wider, holding me open for his mouth. I was writhing, gasping, clawing at the sheets.
"You taste like fucking heaven," he groaned. "And hell. Sweet. Wild. Mine."
I was close.
So close.
And just when I reached the edge—just when my legs began to shake—
He stopped.
I let out a strangled cry, half sob, half scream. "Why—?!"
He climbed over me, body caging mine, lips brushing my ear.
"Because I want you begging, little lamb."
"You bastard," I whispered, tears pooling in my eyes.
He kissed them away.
His hand slid between us, fingers gliding along my soaked slit, teasing again.
"Say it," he said, lips at my neck. "Say what you need."
"You," I gasped. "Please."
"Please what?"
My hips bucked. "Please make me come."
He growled and pushed two fingers into me — deep, curling. I screamed, back arching, hands flying to his shoulders.
He moved inside me, slow and relentless, thumb circling just right until I shattered.
Hard.
Loud.
Violent.
I came apart beneath him, sobbing, clinging to his body as the orgasm ripped through me like a storm. He held me through it, kissed me through it, whispered things in a language my soul somehow understood.
When I collapsed into the pillows, ruined and wrecked, he pressed a kiss to my shoulder.
"I could've taken you," he whispered. "Made you mine in every way."
"You already have."
"No. Not yet."
He pulled the blankets over us, spooned my body to his, one hand still splayed low across my belly, possessive and warm.
"I want you to remember this when the heat fades," he murmured into my hair. "I want you to know I didn't break you. You gave it to me."
I closed my eyes.
And for the first time since the fire began…
I felt peace.