Rhea didn't return to her cottage that night.
After Kael stopped the ritual, he'd stood watching her like a predator leashed too tightly. And though he said she wasn't ready, his hands had lingered on her hips like they had a mind of their own. His breath had ghosted over her skin like an unfinished promise.
And now, she lay in the ruins of a forgotten stone circle just outside his territory, wrapped in her cloak, shivering,but not from the cold.
She could still feel him.
The way he kissed her. The way his lips had tasted her pulse point, dragging her so close to the edge of surrender she'd nearly begged him.
Nearly.
She hadn't known it was possible to want someone this way. Not just want them but ache for them.
Her body pulsed in rhythm with the mark on her collarbone, which now glowed faintly beneath her tunic. It tingled like a flame just under her skin, and the longer she ignored it, the worse it became.
She knew she should leave. Go home. Lock her doors. Pretend the events of the last two days weren't awakening something ancient inside her.
But her legs betrayed her.
They took her back to him.
The air inside Kael's den was thick with musk and magic. Torches glowed along the stone walls, casting golden light across his bare torso as he stood near the firepit, shirtless again, as if cold meant nothing to him.
His back was to her.
She should've turned and walked away.
But she stepped inside instead, letting the heavy wooden door shut behind her with a thud.
Kael didn't turn.
"You shouldn't be here," he said.
"I don't care," she whispered.
He finally faced her and gods, his eyes. They burned molten silver, glowing more intensely than before. His chest rose and fell in sharp breaths, as if he were trying desperately to restrain something.
"You felt it," she said softly. "Same as I did."
"I still feel it," he growled, voice raw.
He crossed the space between them in two strides, cupping her face. His thumb traced her cheekbone, then lower, over her jaw, her lips.
"You don't know what you're asking me to unleash."
"Then show me."
He kissed her again but this time, slower. Deeper. Like he was tasting her soul. His lips moved with a kind of reverence, but his hands didn't wait. They explored gripping her waist, sliding beneath her cloak, up her spine.
Rhea's breath hitched as his mouth moved down her neck, across her collarbone, stopping right at the glowing mark. His tongue flicked over it, and her knees buckled.
Kael caught her with ease.
"Scarlet ties," he murmured against her skin. "That's what this bond is called in my tongue. It connects the moon-blessed. You're not just mine now. I'm yours."
"I didn't ask for this."
"No. But the Moon Queen doesn't care what we want. She only takes what burns brightest."
His hands pulled her tighter, and she gasped at the feel of him hard, hot, and pressed fully against her. Her fingers curled into his hair as his lips claimed her again.
Every touch was electric.
Every kiss wicked.
And when his teeth grazed the curve of her breast through her tunic, she cried out, trembling.
But again… he stopped.
"Kael…" she whimpered, nearly breathless. "Why?"
"Because if I take you now," he said, voice shaking, "I won't stop until you wear my bite."
He stepped back, panting. His pupils had dilated into something more beast than man. His skin shimmered with the telltale glow of someone halfway to a shift.
"You need to know what you're choosing. The bond isn't just desire. It's madness. It's rage. If we complete it, your soul will never be your own again."
"I don't want it to be," she whispered.
Kael froze.
Then, softly: "Then meet me under the blood moon."
"When?"
"Three nights from now. At the altar of bones."
"And what happens then?"
He smirked wolfish, wicked. "Then I make you mine. In every way."