Page 69 of Heart of the Rebel Mate

And it terrifies me.

I rake a hand through my hair, leaning back in my chair. Rationally, the choice is obvious. Step away. Let Cassian have her. Let them handle their war without me in the middle of it.

But the thought of walking away twists something deep inside my chest.

I've told myself it's just duty, just responsibility. That I stand by Elara because it's the right thing to do.

But it's more than that.

I know it.

And that's the real danger.

I press my hands against my face, exhaling slowly.

I should leave. Distance myself before this goes any further.

But I won't.

Because despite every rational part of me screaming to let her go, I already know?—

I can't.

Just like last time, another memory of an intimate moment with her accosts my consciousness. It's like the driver for a couple minutes and I am nothing but a passenger in my own body. Our bond makes the memory feel real. It's almost like she's in the room with me:

I shouldn't touch her.

She's pacing, frustration pouring off her in waves. Her movements are sharp, her breathing shallow, her hands clenched at her sides. Every muscle in her body is coiled tight, locked in battle with something I can't see.

I want to smooth the tension away. Want to feel her give in, just for a second.

She stops, and before she can react, I step into her space. One hand at her waist, the other sliding up her arm, my fingers skimming the bare skin at her shoulder.

She gasps, and I feel the ripple of her response, the tremor that betrays her.

Her pupils darken. Her lips part.

I shift closer, pressing just enough for her to feel the heat of my body, to remind her of the pull that neither of us can ignore.

She exhales shakily. "Adrian?—"

"I know," I murmur. I don't let go.

Her pulse pounds beneath my fingers. The scent of her—wild and electric, something untamed—winds around me, filling my lungs. My blood turns molten, thick with want.

If I kissed her now, I don't think she'd stop me.

But I don't.

Instead, I run my thumb along her lower lip, feeling the softness, the warmth.

She shudders.

I pull back before I do something reckless.

But not before I see the way her breath still comes fast. Not before I catch the way her gaze lingers on my mouth.

I come to, feeling waves of euphoria. She feels tethered to my soul. I can't seem to let her go.

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