Page 33 of Primal Vow

Rhys lay there, shivering wildly, the world spinning around him. He was colder than he'd ever been in his life. The water had been shockingly cold, leaving him with a bone-deep chill, a terrible knowledge that his body was losing warmth at a speed that it couldn't hope to match.

He'd once heard that freezing to death was a peaceful way to go. As the cold crept through his limbs, as his fingers and toes grew increasingly numb, as his body began to tremble uncontrollably in a desperate bid to generate heat, he knew that that were nothing but a comforting lie.

This was bad. This was really, really bad.

The world spun, his vision darkened, and then he was being hauled upwards into Taryn's arms once more. The alien was carrying him away from the river, his powerful form a rock-solid anchor for Rhys's delirious senses.

Rhys's teeth chattered, the sound lost in the roaring of the rapids. He was freezing, shaking, half-delirious.

A fire sprang into life as Taryn finished his work, and then he turned his attention back to Rhys. He stripped off Rhys's sodden clothes, moving quickly and efficiently. Rhys was too far gone to feel any embarrassment. He was shivering so violently that he could barely even feel the touch of Taryn's hands against his naked body as the alien picked him up.

"You need to get warm," Taryn said. There was a raw edge to his voice. "I need to get your body temperature back up as quickly as possible. Gods, you're so small…"

Rhys's chattering teeth prevented him from truly hearing Taryn's words. He could only stare up at Taryn, his vision swimming, the deep, dark heart of the forest spinning around him.

The fire was a blessing, heat seeping into Rhys's chilled limbs. But even as the warmth tried to chase away the cold, there was something missing. Some deep chill had sunk into his bones, and no matter how close he edged to the flames, he couldn't shake it.

Before he knew it, Taryn was kneeling beside him, the alien's fierce green eyes filled with unmistakable concern. With a swift movement, he tugged off his own soaked clothes. In the flickering light of the fire, his golden skin was a sight to behold, his muscles rippling as he moved.

Taryn lay down beside Rhys, pulling him against his body, and Rhys yelped. Taryn's body seemed like a furnace against Rhys's chilled form. The alien ran hot, his skin like a living thing, his heat seeping through Rhys's frozen numbness to chase away the deep chill that the fire couldn't touch.

The alien had saved Rhys's life twice over, and now he was offering his own body heat to do it again.

Rhys's rational mind told him that this was a terrible idea. His body told him something else entirely. As the deep chill in his bones slowly receded, another kind of warmth filled him. It was a heady mix of gratitude, desire, and something else that he didn't want to examine too closely.

Taryn's hand settled against Rhys's chest, holding him close, the heat of his touch filling Rhys with warmth. With a deep breath, Rhys relaxed into the embrace, drinking in the alien's body heat. With a shivering sigh, he snuggled against Taryn's warm, firm form.

"You're a strange creature, human," Taryn rumbled, his voice deep in the intimate space between them. "You're always getting yourself into trouble."

"H-hey, what can I say? Trouble finds m-me. I think it's got a crush."

Taryn let out a huff of amusement. "Focus on getting warm. We'll deal with everything else in the morning."

In the embrace of the alien's warmth, with the deep chill in his bones finally banished, Rhys was all too happy to obey. He closed his eyes and drifted off, the crackling of the fire at his side and the deep, steady beat of Taryn's heart the only things in the world.

Chapter thirteen

Rhys didn't know how long he slept. The hours blurred together in a hazy mess of sensations, some good, some bad. The chill in his bones warred against the steady, secure heat of Taryn's body, leaving him lost in a feverish sleep.

Finally, he woke up. In that moment, with the deep, untamed forest surrounding them, the warmth of Taryn's embrace, the crackling of the fire and the deep, steady beat of Taryn's heart against his back...

In that moment, there was no trouble in the world that Rhys cared to think about.

And there was no other place that he wished to be.

Rhys rolled over, experimentally snuggling deeper into Taryn's embrace. The Borraq's muscular arms tightened reflexively around him, and Rhys felt the steady thrum of Taryn's heart against his cheek.

"How do you feel?" Taryn's deep voice rumbled, achingly close.

Rhys wriggled his fingers and toes, assessing. The chill had faded, replaced by a pleasant, encompassing warmth. "Better," he murmured, half-expecting Taryn to release him now that the crisis had passed.

But Taryn didn't let go. If anything, he held Rhys closer, their bodies flush against each other in the makeshift camp. Rhys didn't protest, surprising himself with how content he felt cocooned in Taryn's arms.

He gazed at the dance of the flames on Taryn's skin, the firelight casting flickering shadows in the velvet darkness of the night around them. In the stillness of the forest, with only the crackle of the fire and the occasional call of alien wildlife, Rhys allowed himself to simply exist in this moment.

Did Taryn feel this connection too? Or was Rhys deluding himself, projecting his desires onto someone who was just trying to keep him alive? Did he just hit his head on the way down?

But then Taryn's gaze met his, vivid and intense.

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