Page 54 of Sy

She froze. “How old were you?”

Now he did turn, his expression carefully blank. “Mid-teens.”

“And Tor?” The question came out barely above a whisper, though she dreaded the answer. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he must hear it.

“The same age as Kal,” he said simply. “He was little more than a toddler.”

Horror crept up her spine as the pieces fell into place. “And Kal?”

Sy’s gaze softened, though his voice remained steady. “He was already on the shuttle when it picked us up. They were both terrified. Clung to me like little limpets.”

She stared at him, her mind reeling. She tried to imagine it—a teenage boy suddenly responsible for two terrified toddlers, arriving in this stark, military world. No wonder he’d kept those drawings. No wonder losing them had mattered.

The space between them seemed to shrink, charged with a different kind of tension now. She could see past his careful composure to the boy he must have been, thrust into a role no teenager should have to take on. Everything about him made more sense now—his protectiveness of the boys, his careful control, the way he carried responsibility like a second skin.

“So you became their parent. Didn’t you?” The words slipped out, soft and full of understanding.

He hesitated but then nodded, his eyes meeting hers. The raw vulnerability there stole her breath. Gone was the careful mask, the controlled warrior. For the first time, she saw him completely unguarded, and it made her heart twist.

Before she could stop herself, she took a step toward him. Then another. His eyes tracked her movement, but he didn’t pull away this time. The air between them felt electric, charged with something that had been building since that kiss in the emergency shelter.

She reached for him without thinking, her hand coming to rest on his arm. His skin was warm through the fabric of hisshirt, and she felt the slight tremor that ran through him at her touch. For a moment, they just stood there, connected by that single point of contact, breathing the same air.

Then he moved, closing the last bit of distance between them. His hand came up to cup her face, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone with such gentleness it made her throat tight.

She leaned into his touch, unable to help herself, and his control finally, completely, shattered.

His mouth crashed down on hers, urgent and hungry. There was no gentleness now, no careful control—only raw need and desperate longing. His hand slid from her cheek to tangle in her hair, gripping tightly as he pulled her against him. She gasped at the sudden intensity, and he took advantage, deepening the kiss until she thought she might drown in it.

Her hands fisted in his shirt, clinging to him as her senses reeled. The taste of him, the feel of his body pressed against hers—it was overwhelming, consuming. His arm wrapped around her waist, anchoring her to him, and she could feel the hard planes of his chest, the taut muscles of his abdomen against her softer curves. Every inch of him was hot and firm against her, sending her pulse skyrocketing.

His mouth moved against hers with devastating skill, his tongue exploring, teasing, promising pleasures she could only imagine. She met him kiss for kiss, her own desire rising to match his, her body aching with a need that was almost painful.

The room spun around her, the world narrowing down to the points where their bodies touched and their breaths mingled.

His grip on her hair tightened, and he tilted her head back, exposing her neck. His lips left hers to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat, and she shivered, her skin burning where he touched her. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, the rapid rise and fall of his breath, and it thrilled her to know she affected him this way.

When his mouth found hers again, the ferocity stole her breath. His teeth nipped at her lower lip, and she gasped as her fingers dug into his shoulders.

He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss more, sliding his tongue against hers and stroking in a rhythm that made her knees weak.

The heat between them blazed out of control, the air thick with the scent of their desire. Her body ached with a need she’d never felt before.

She pressed closer to him, wanting more,needingmore. His hand slid down her back, cupping her ass and pulling her tightly against him, and she could feel the hard length of him pressed against her stomach.

The kiss was a battle, a dance, a promise of more. It was raw and primal, a claiming and a surrender all at once. As his mouth moved against hers, hungry and insistent, she knew she was lost—lost in him, lost in this moment, lost in the fire that burned between them.

And she never wanted to be found.

Sy’s lips crashed down over hers again. His hands cupped her face, thumbs stroking her cheeks gently. Her body responded, melting into him as though they’d been made for this moment.

The living room spun around her as he walked her backward, his body pressing against hers with each deliberate step. The heat of him radiated through his clothes, warming her skin everywhere they touched. When his tongue swept across her bottom lip, she opened to him with a soft moan that seemed to ignite something primal in him.

The backs of her knees met the edge of the couch and his hands dropped to her hips, gripping firmly. The rough pads of his fingers dug into her flesh through her clothes, sending sparks of pleasure racing along her nerve endings.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark with desire, pupils blown wide enough to swallow the iris whole.

“Ashley,” he breathed her name like a prayer against her lips before claiming them again.

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