Page 98 of Sunder

She was allowed to tell him what she thought. This was a discussion, not an argument.

He wanted to go to the Hall.

She wanted to fly out the window and disappear into the great mountains beyond.

“You have been deprived of too much already,” Athan continued, when at last she could coax her eyes into focusing on his features rather than her own imaginings. “It was only a thought, not a plan. A wish.” He smoothed her hair behind her ears. “But if the sacrifice is you and your happiness, then it will be one that is unfulfilled.”

A weight settled in her chest. “I want you to have what you want,” Orma reminded him. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

He huffed out a breath and shook his head, and there were whispers of a chuckle hidden at the edges. “I want you.” He kissed her, just once. So softly she might not have thought it real except she’d kept her eyes open and she knew he’d moved. “I want you to be happy.”

A strange sort of impasse. The same desire, but both so certain they were in the other’s way.

She let herself shiver. Let herself feel the uncertainty and the pressing worry that no matter what she tried, she would make this man miserable.

Then she swallowed.

Took a breath.

And kissed him.

Perhaps he was content with almost non-existent kisses, but she wasn’t. She could fret. She could state her intentions and they might not perfectly align with his.

And they would kiss anyway.

Because they belonged to each other, and this was right and real and when he answered her hesitation with active participation...

She knew she’d done right.

Perhaps she should be troubled by what was spread out beside them. Should be considerate of the Brum nestled by their feet.

Tomorrow, she would be. But now, in this not quite night, not quite morning, she would kiss her mate and make her claim, and she refused to doubt herself. Doubt him.

The bond glowed. She didn’t have to look. Not with her eyes tightly closed and her attention more focused on his lips against hers, the feel of his fingers through her hair as she clutched him closer. Had she moved? She couldn’t remember?

He broke away first. Which would not be all right, except that he nuzzled against her cheek and pressed kisses against her jaw while she was left to bring in tight, shivery breaths because she was becoming more than aware she was straddling his lap. “You said that you loved me,” Athan murmured into her skin. “Did you mean it?”

Had she? She couldn’t remember. Everything was a blur. But maybe that was something she’d learned to do. To forget during times of stress. To shove it away so it couldn’t hurt her anymore than necessary.

She could tell him that. She could pretend he wasn’t looking at her from the corner of his eye. Pretend she couldn’t feel the way he craved her answer so desperately through the bond.

She couldn’t give him that if she didn’t mean it. She couldn’t lie, not even to please him.

It settled over her so gently she didn’t even have time to be afraid of it.

She turned her cheek so she could press a kiss to wherever she might reach, and was rewarded when he brought his lips back to hers. Just once. Teasing. Coaxing.

Waiting.

For her answer.

Always patient, her Athan. Even when she could feel his insides twisting as he tried to make it all right if she rescinded it.

Perhaps it wasn’t the sort of love she’d have when they were old. When they’d built their entire life together. Found the Brum a mate and filled the corners of their home with over-large offspring.

It wasn’t even the sort her parents had—built of time and dedication and a loyalty that seemed unending.

But it was a start. Something tender. Untried. Or... nearly so.

---