Page 58 of Crescent Warrior

Her lips parted on a soundless scream and she felt him grunt above her, his hips thrusting tightly. Heat filled her as he shook over her, trembling from head to toe, his forehead pressed against hers.

Riding out her orgasm, she rocked her hips in the tight circle that his weight allowed. Within moments, he gripped her ass, giving it a harsh, tight squeeze to make her stop. She felt her pussy spasm at the pain, biting her lip as she came down from her high.

“My Lyta,” he murmured, pressing grateful kisses to her skin and she hummed, feeling euphoric.

She basked in his affection, and when he turned them in the bed, she cuddled into his strong arms, stroking her fingers over his muscled chest.

Her eyes were drooping, but she took the time to peer around, smiling at all her old furniture. Everything was where it used to be.

“I dreamed of this,” he murmured, and she froze, her heart clenching at his words. “I wanted our first time to be in this bed. This house, where I fell in love with you.”

The simultaneous pain and happiness at his words were almost debilitating. She nuzzled into his neck, hiding from him, but he stroked her hair, continuing to speak.

“Whenever I felt alone and like I didn’t have a place in this world, I just thought about you and I here and I’d feel better. We’re magic together, my Lyta.”

His words stabbed into the wall she was still holding up by her fingernails around her heart. She raised her shaking hand to press to his lips, silencing him. He looked down at her, stroking her hair behind her ear.

“Let’s not talk about the past,” she murmured, not knowing how else to explain the clenching in her chest. She was worried that this was fake, that it was all a lie, and one day, he would tell her that he didn’t want her anymore.

She knew it was illogical. The most rational explanation for all his behavior was that he was telling the truth. He probably had loved her but pushed it away thinking that she wasn’t his mate since he hadn’t recognized her scent. That didn’t stop her mind from coming up with scenarios where he was only forced to choose her because she was his mate, no other reason.

“Hey,” he murmured against her fingers, pulling her hand away gently. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, cuddling closer to him. He slid his hand up and down her back, soothing her.

“I love you, my Lyta.”

Alex stretched his arms over his head as he stared outside of the windows of the house they were staying in. A house was perhaps an over-estimation of what the little cottage really was, but both he and Michael weren’t exactly spoiled. They could make do.

He peered over his shoulder, eyeing Michael, who was rummaging hurriedly through his bag. When his shoulders sagged as if relieved, Alex leaned back, trying to peek around his arm.

Clutched in Michael’s hands was a ragged polaroid photo. Narrowing his eyes, he moved closer, but he had already tucked it away.

“Girlfriend?” Alex called from where he stood.

Michael glanced over at him with a glare before going back to zipping his bag. “No.” His gruff reply brooked no response, but Alex was used to it by now.

“I’m not judging you, man. You already know my girl.”

Michael’s eyes shot over to him one more time before his hands stilled on his bag. “I… She… Not anymore.”

“The fucking worst, isn’t it?” Alex sighed, scrubbing his hand across his chest. He moved forward, clapping Michael across his back. “Listen, I’ll help you with your girl if you help me with mine.”

Michael gave a little huff of laughter, one of the few times he ever had, sharing only a short moment of eye contact with Alex. “Thanks, but it’ll never happen.”

Alex smirked at him. “Never say never. There’s always hope. I know I’ll get my Selene back. I’m sure you can get your girl too.”

Michael just shrugged, his fingers lingering on the zipper of his bag.

“Can I see her?” Alex asked, quietly, respectfully.

Michael peeked at him again, his brow furrowed, his fingers fidgeting on the zipper. Alex didn’t push him. He let him decide, waiting patiently. Slowly, Michael unzipped the bag, pulling the photo free from where he had stashed it into a hidden pocket in the back.

He held it out to Alex, who took it carefully, grinning down at it. A much younger Michael was smiling shyly up at the camera that was being held at arms-length by the beautiful girl next to him. They seemed to be teenagers.

The girl’s head was tucked comfortably against Michael’s neck, her smile wide and bright as they lay on the floor, her long dark hair spread like a halo behind them. The contrast of their skin, hers dusky and glowing while his was pale and flushed with a pink blush, was beautiful.

“She’s gorgeous,” he said seriously, handing it back to Michael. He just nodded, taking it back and putting it away. “You look happy.”

---