Page 106 of Knot Your Fated M.U.S.E.

My inexperience becomes glaringly obvious — six years in Ravenscroft didn't exactly provide opportunities for romantic encounters. But rather than feeling ashamed of my naive responses, I find myself surrendering to them.

This alpha seems to recognize my uncertainty, adjusting his approach with incredible sensitivity.

He slows the kiss, letting me learn his rhythm, and allowing me to explore this new territory at my own pace. The arm that was around my throat disappeared, replaced by his hand cradling the front of my neck with impossible gentleness.

The touch carries such tenderness it almost brings tears to my eyes.

I've never known this kind of contact — the books and images I've studied showed parents holding their children with similar care, but this is different. His touch combines protection with passion in a way I can't quite comprehend. It's as if he wants to shelter me from every horror I've endured while simultaneously awakening parts of me I never knew existed.

His tongue traces the seam of my parted lips as I catch my breath, the gesture somehow both a question and an invitation. Even in this moment of heated connection, he's asking permission, letting me set boundaries I never knew I needed.

Following pure instinct, I mirror his action, running my tongue along his bottom lip.

The groan that escapes him sounds like pleasure and restraint waging war. His hand tightens slightly on my throat — not threatening, but stabilizing as if he needs to ground himself against whatever storm I'm stirring up inside him.

The shadows remain silent, but something else rises to fill that space — this primal and powerful sensation that makes me feel more omega than all the years of experiments ever allowed. Every point of contact between us burns with possibility, promise, and a connection I can't begin to understand but desperately want to explore.

If we’re able to survive this…

His scent wraps around me like a physical embrace — pine and leather and mountain air all mingling with somethingdarker, something that speaks of power carefully controlled for my benefit. The combination makes my head spin and makes my body respond in ways I didn't know it could.

Here, in this room of death and violence, surrounded by evidence of everything wrong with my world, I find myself experiencing what feels impossibly right. As if I had merely forgotten what it feels like to experience, and in this instance, all the reasons I had that gun pressed to my head mere minutes ago.

The kiss continues, a perfect balance between his expertise and my discovery, between his restraint and my awakening desire. Each brush of his lips, each careful touch of his tongue, each controlled breath between us — it all builds into something that threatens to consume us both.

I should be afraid.

Wary of this stranger who stopped me from ending everything. Any sane person would question why an Alpha would show such care for an omega he doesn't know — especially one as broken and useless as me.

But with his taste on my tongue and his scent in my lungs, I can't bring myself to doubt…

There’s no way of forcing myself to pull away.

Nothing I can do but surrender to this unexpected revelation of what connection can feel like.

His hand on my throat feels like an anchor keeping me from drifting away into the darkness that nearly claimed me. His kiss feels like a promise I don't dare name but desperately want to believe in.

For the first time, I feel a pulsing rejuvenation that’s beyond survival.

Beyond pain and threatened refuge.

I feel like an omega discovering what it means to be wanted.

Means to be protected with the daring hope of what it could be like to be claimed.

Even if this moment is all we have —even if death finds us in the next breath— I want to drink in every sensation. Want to memorize every detail of how it feels to be touched with purpose instead of cruelty, to be held with passion instead of clinical detachment.

This could be Death’s cruel joke to tease me before the end, but if it is, I’ll enjoy every second of it because this is what I’ve craved for all these years and moments.

A simple taste of what it’s like to be an Omega.

His tongue slips past my lips with careful precision, testing and exploring as if waiting for any sign of hesitation. Far from wanting to pull away, I lean further into his touch, silently begging for more. He reads my wordless request perfectly, deepening the kiss with a skill that makes me dizzy.

The fact that he can interpret my body's signals so effortlessly amazes me.

After years of being surrounded by guards who saw me as nothing but a number, who had the advantage of sight but never saw me as anything worth noting, this blind alpha understands my every subtle movement.

An unwelcome thought intrudes — would he still want me if he could see me? Would his desire dim if he knew what years of experiments had done to my appearance? The thought makes me tense involuntarily, my muscles going rigid with sudden anxiety.

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