Kieran

Daciana is sprawled over me. Her frame is much smaller than mine, so she lies on top of me easily. We’re in her bed, tangled in sheets that smell like us, like what we’ve done. The fated mate bond burns brightly between us, a constant pulse of connection I couldn’t shut off even if I wanted to.

I can feel everything through the bond—the soft, sleepy contentment that makes her limbs heavy, the gentle pull of exhaustion, the way she melts into me like she was made to fit against my chest.

I run my fingers through her hair, watching the firelight dance across the ceiling.

I can’t bring...