Chapter 173

EVE.

He went still for half a breath, just long enough for the surprise of it to register, and then he kissed me back.

It was nothing close to calm and perfect.

His kiss was messy, hungry, and desperate, and the sound he made against my mouth — a rough, involuntary sound that was pure possession released —when I pulled him closer, sent warmth straight to my lower region.

"Fuck. I've missed this." He said against my lips.

His mouth was hot and demanding, tasting faintly of cigarette and restrained desire finally off its leash, as he kissed me deep enough until my lungs ached and my fingers went numb from gripping his shirt, and the only thought my mind could produce was more, more, more.

His tongue slid against mine so slowly, in a way that made my toes curl against the mattress.

His hands tightened in my hair, angling my head back exactly the way he wanted it, taking control of the kiss so completely that the only thing I could do was hold on and let him.

I grabbed the front of his shirt, and he walked me back gently to the bed and came down over me, his weight settling against me.

His hand cradled the back of my head, and I stopped thinking entirely.

His mouth left mine, and I almost made an embarrassing sound of protest.

He looked at me for one heated second before his mouth found my jaw, my throat, the curve of my neck just above the collarbone — the side that didn't carry Kyrie's mark — and he dragged his lips across my skin with an open-mouthed heat, like he was making a territorial point without needing to say a single word about it.

My back arched off the bed entirely without my permission.

His hand found my waist and slid beneath the hem of my top. His palm was flat and burning against my bare skin, and the contrast of it as it slowly moved upward along my ribcage made me shiver so violently that he felt it and lifted his head to look at me.

"Saint..." His name came out broken in a way that should have embarrassed me, but didn't.

His teeth grazed my pulse point, and I forgot what I was going to say.

"Saint." I managed again, pulling at the back of his shirt.

"Mm." He moaned.

"Take me," I said, and I heard how wrecked my voice sounded, and I didn't care even slightly.

He pulled back just enough to look at my face, his breathing uneven, and his composure in a genuinely remarkable state of disarray for a man who prided himself on having composure at all times.

"We need to see Meryk first," he said.

I blinked. "What?"

"Before I touch you properly." He brushed his thumb along my jaw, and the gentleness of it after the urgency of thirty seconds ago was almost cruel. "I need to know it's safe. Whether a ritual has to be done first. Whether taking you right now without preparation makes things worse for the bond instead of better." He held my gaze. "I am not risking your body on assumption, Eve. Not after everything it has already been through."

I stared at the ceiling briefly. "You have terrible timing."

"I have excellent timing," he said. "I am choosing not to use it until I know it won't hurt you. Those are different things."

I looked back at him.

He was watching me with that look that once made me uneasy, but now, only made me feel desired.

"When can we go?" I asked.

"Thirty minutes." He straightened up slowly. "I need to go home and get cleaned up first. I look like I've been through a war."

"You have been through a war."

"Yes," he said simply. "But I don't have to look like it when I take you to Meryk."

I almost laughed.

He stood, and I sat up, and the distance that opened between us immediately felt unreasonable. Iris made a noise of protest somewhere inside me, and I had to actively talk her down.

"Get ready," he said, reaching out to brush my face one more time with the backs of his fingers, brief and deliberate. "I will be back in thirty minutes."

I managed myself to the closet and pulled on the first simple thing my hands found that required the least amount of effort, because my body was still running on reserves it didn't have, and vanity was not a luxury available to me right now.

I checked the time, and he had been gone for barely fifteen minutes, yet it felt like an hour already, with another hour loading closely.

I caught myself smiling for no reason as I made my way to the bed.

I lay down, staring at the ceiling with my heart doing something medically concerning and Iris burning through me like a lit fuse, when I heard a knock on my door.

I paused and narrowed my brows. It was definitely not Saint. He wouldn't knock like that. He had walked in uninvited just moments ago. So, why would he knock now?

I stood up slowly, my heart already adjusting its rhythm as I tried to reach for a scent, but nothing came back clean. My senses had been unreliable since Africa, because my wolf was using every available resource to manage the incomplete bond rather than the ordinary business of perception. The air beyond that door was just air.

I managed my steps until I reached the door, still trying to figure out who it was, until I reached for the knob, twisted, and pulled the door open.

I froze instantly as I felt the blood in my veins turn to ice.

"Eve..."

That one word set my heart on a race.

It was Kyrie.