Page 37 of Forbid Me

I shook my head. Dion had said the same thing to me when I'd told him my shame. I'd shut him down, gone mute as he continued to protest. He'd never brought it up again.

My father had succumbed to madness before we were born. TheCall of the Wild had claimed not only his body but shifted his mind to madness.

"My mother... she rejected me after that. I was alone, a lone panther, until King Dion found me. He saved me, gave me purpose. I owe him my life."

"Then I owe him, too, for saving your life so that you could find me."

"I just told you I was a murderer."

Stella made a dismissive sound in the back of her throat. She waved her hands in the air as though she was tailoring my words. "I've dated murderers. I grew up in the Crossroads. Don't judge me, and I won't judge you."

She pointed a pink-tipped nail at me when I opened my mouth. I shut it mutely. Mainly because I wanted to hear her words. I wanted her words to absolve me.

"My point is you don't feel like a murderer to me. You don't have that dead look in your eyes. Your nostrils don't flare when you see an easy target." Stella's hand found mine, her touch gentle and reassuring. "Your mother should've taken better care of both of you. That's a mother's responsibility. When I meet her, I'm going to have words with her."

"She's dead."

"Oh. I'm sorry." She bit her lip like she was trying to hold in the next words. She quickly lost that battle. "But also good riddance if she made her baby think her neglect made him a murderer."

Her words struck a chord deep within me, a longing I didn't realize I had.

"I've changed my mind, Oz."

Stella had been holding my hands. She let go now. Her arms crossed over her chest. That regal nose went into the air in a show of defiance.

"I'm not going to share you. I want to be the only woman who gets access to your body and the sole caretaker of your heart."

CHAPTER 25

Stella

As the words spilled from my lips, a pang of doubt clawed at my heart. Maybe it wasn't a pang. Maybe it was my panther.

I felt her clawing at me to get out. Would she bow her head and accept less from her mate? Would she lower her eyes when confronted with another woman's carnal gaze as she looked at Oz? Would she try and conform and contort her shape to appear more desirable to him in the face of all the sleek pantheresses in Arcadia?

"I deserve more."

But even as I spoke those words, a torrent of worry flooded my mind. Would he think I was too bossy, too needy? Would he see my request for exclusivity as a burden?

Beneath my tailored clothes, behind the contoured blush on my face and under the surface of my confident façade, I harbored doubts about my own desirability. What if I wasn't enough for him? What ifhe longed for someone more alluring, more captivating than me? The thought gnawed at me, threatening to unravel the fragile threads of hope I had woven around my heart.

But then, as I looked into Oz's eyes, I saw something that washed away my fears. There was a tenderness, a depth of emotion that mirrored my own. An animal peered out at me from behind those golden irises. It rose to the surface, a raw and untamed presence that sent a shiver down my spine. It was the panther in his gaze.

The beast within wanted me, all of me, just as I was—flaws and all.

It was the man who kissed me.

The kiss was consuming. I was engulfed in the taste of him, like a wild forest after rain, earthy and alive. His essence filled my senses, overpowering me in the most intoxicating way possible. My heart raced in my chest, matching the rhythm of his own.

Oz kissed me like he was a skilled tailor weaving delicate threads. Each brush of his lower lip against mine stitched our souls closer together. The brush of his upper lip felt as though the fabric of our beings was being expertly mended. The fractures in my heart from past relationships faded away with each of his tender nips.

The feel of his fingers against my chin was like gentle embellishments. He swiped a thumb over the corners of my mouth as his tongue tasted mine. His index finger caressed the soft skin of my eyelids, adding intricate details to the masterpiece we were creating together. With every caress, I felt myself becoming more and more like precious fabric, delicate yet resilient, as if his touch had the power to transform me into something even more beautiful.

In his arms, I felt the magic of our connection, the stitches of the bond weaving us together in a way that felt both inevitable and absolute. This man would never hurt me. He would never lie to me. He would never leave me. Because it would hurt his very soul.

That was all before he deepened the kiss.

The once tender connection we shared cracked under the weight of his intensity. I wasn't sure if it was the panther or the man whogrowled. The sound had me pulling him closer at the same time as it had me pressing my thighs together.

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