"I see it in your eyes," Luna countered softly. "I see it in your actions. The way you look at me, Damien. The way you fight like the world itself could be lost if I am. Maybe…" she paused, "…maybe we don't need words at all."
"Maybe we don't," he agreed, and there was raw need laced in his tone. With that, he closed the final inches of distance, wrapped her into his arms, and crushed his mouth to hers in a bruising kiss.
Her fingers instantly tangled into his hair, tugging him closer, unwilling to allow even an inch of space between them. His hand trailed up the column of her neck, calloused fingertips brushing against the sensitive skin until he found his mark—the scar of their eternal bond etched into her flesh. His thumb lingered there, tracing reverently, as though reminding himself it existed, as though testing the reality of it.
