“Always but Slade. We call people like Slade tricksters. They smash through tradition, rules, customs, not always aware of the consequences of doing so.”
“That sounds bad,” I said, bristling. He was a bit of an arse at times, but the fact I could rely on him to tell me what was going on was reassuring, though that pregnancy thing...
“It’s not. It’s just chaotic. We need rule breakers as much as rule creators. If we have too many breakers, anarchy reigns, if we have too many creators, society ossifies.”
“You’re a creator, aren’t you,” I said with a smile.
His, when he returned it, was devastating. I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed that brilliant flash of white teeth against deep brown skin.
“As a rule, yes. You can’t work for the alpha and not be. But today, I’m going to take a leaf from Slade’s book.”
My eyes went to where his hand reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small bag, undid the drawstrings, and pulled out a silver ring, placing it on my palm. I just stared into his grey eyes, the intensity there startling. Finn always came across as unflappable, but this was a whole other beast.
“Give me the chance to pursue you, and I’ll do so to the ends of the earth. You want this, you won’t get away from me, Jules. I’ll hunt you down with everything I have.” His arm tightened around my shoulders as I turned the ring around in my fingers. It was incredibly beautiful, with tiny Tirians running along the band. “You’re right, I’ve worked all my life to try and keep order. I’ve always done what the matriarchs wanted; kept the order with the men, brought the single men’s concerns to them, acted as a broker between the factions. But I’d give it all away. Fuck Kelly, fuck all of it, if that’s what it takes to make you mine. I don’t resent Slade for what he did, I envy him.”
I looked up at him, his eyes almost glowing with his intensity. My Tirian rose within me, looking out of my eyes at this contender. She met his stare head on, then nodded in acknowledgement. I plucked the ring from my palm and slid it on my finger.
“Fuck, Jules...” he growled, and dragged me onto his lap. His mouth was on mine in the next second, open and hungry. “My beautiful girl...” he panted between kisses, and then stopped for a moment, his eyes staring into mine as our foreheads pressed together. Then he kissed me again, slower, softer this time. My breath hitched in my
chest as our lips made slow work of each other.
God, I was drowning in him, his spicy sandalwood scent, the feel of his big hands clamping down on my hips and shoving me down hard as his rolled up in just the right spot. I was hot, so hot, but it wasn’t the same blinding sexual burn as before.
Did I love Finn? I wasn’t sure. I felt like I stood on the precipice of something huge and was teetering on the edge...
I threw my arms around his neck, putting my head on his chest and just lying there for precious seconds. Taking my cue, his arms went around me, holding me. I listened to the rapid thump of his heart, the rustle of his breath in and out, and thankfully, everything else dropped away.
What was this feeling? It wasn’t one of those high key ones like lust or anger. It wasn’t even quite like peacefulness. Instead, I felt something…release. Right now, there was nowhere else I wanted to be. I searched through clichés to try and describe what this was like, to process it. He didn’t complete me, he didn’t belong to me, but it felt something like that.
Connection, my Tirian said. You two are connected. The silver is nothing, merely a symbol of what you know.
She knew. I hadn’t thought about it that way before, but that’s exactly what it felt like. It was the power thrumming through me when I pulled back, placed my hand on his cheek, and stared into his eyes. When we kissed, it was like creating an electrical connection. I heard it in his gasp, that he could feel it as well. It had a language, this connection, written over my flesh as his hands roamed, as my nails scratched at his chest. It passed between us, mouth to mouth. We spoke—much more eloquently than when we used words—of our desire, our need, our affection for one another. A myriad of memories cascaded through my brain, of those big broad hands serving me coffee in the morning and trailing across my shoulders as he moved past. Of him listening to my stories and complaints patiently, and watching me drunkenly proposition him. Of him making sure I was safe, tucking me into bed with a kiss on my forehead and wrapping me in his arms to kiss me all over. When I pulled away his eyes had transformed. While they might appear bright depending on his mood, now they glowed Tirian green, too intense to look on for long, but I was unable to look away.
He is pack, she said, in that patient, long-suffering way.
But not now, I said.
Not yet.
“You know what I want to do, don’t you?” I said. It became patently obvious that wasn’t totally clear to Finn, until I’d said the words. His face transformed, some of the ravenous hunger softening as the surprise registered.
“You know I want nothing more than to wear your mark,” he said. The words came out raspy, like he was struggling to force them out.
“I know.”
“But if I walk out there bleeding...”
“I know.”
He laid a gentle kiss on my lips. “Mark me in another way.” His hand went to the hem of my dress, sliding underneath.
“What? You want to...?”
His hand skimmed upwards, strong fingers scoring the soft skin of my inner thigh. I stared at him, not sure what he intended, until his fingertips grazed the crease of my thigh.
“Let me wear your scent on me. Let me walk out into that group of people, all congratulating Slade on becoming the first of your mates, with your sweet scent on my fingers. I might not wear your bite on my neck, but I’ll have something...” His fingers plucked at the edge of my knickers, edging underneath. “Jules?”
“Yeah?” My reply came out all breathy.