Page 18 of Fated to the Drakarn Commander (Drakarn Mates 4)

Then, slowly, reluctantly, she unwound her arms from my neck. The loss of her warmth was a physical pain, a sudden, hollow ache that gaped open as she stepped back, putting crucial space between us once more.

"Thank you," she said, her voice softer, huskier than I'd ever heard it. Her scent had changed subtly, heightened by adrenaline and something deeper, sweeter, more fundamentallyher. It was intoxicating.

My tongue felt thick, hypersensitive, burning with the taste of her lingering on the air between us. My vision narrowed, focused laser-sharp on the pulse hammering visibly in the delicate curve of her throat, the slight parting of her lips as she caught her breath.

The moment stretched, taut as a bowstring drawn to its limit. It was vibrating with unspoken tension. I could step forward. One step. I could tell her the truth. I could claim what was already mine in all but name, seal it there under the unforgiving eyes of the twin suns.

Her gaze dropped. Lingered on my mouth. On my fangs, visible now as my lips pulled back fractionally in a silent snarl of need. Something shifted in her expression—awareness flickered, heat kindled deep in her eyes, confusion warring with something else. She swallowed hard, the movement drawing my focus with agonizing precision to the vulnerable line of her throat.

Mine.The word roared through me, a furnace blast drowning all reason, all centuries of hard-won restraint.

Then she stepped back again, decisively this time, breaking the moment. Breaking the connection. Her arms crossed over her chest, an unconscious, immediate barrier. "We should get back," she said, her voice steadier now, though a subtle tremor still vibrated beneath the surface. "You had business with Ryvik, right?"

Duty. The mention was a cold shock, dousing the internal fire. I forced my wings to fold completely, forced my stance to relax, though every muscle fiber screamed with coiled tension, with thwarted instinct.

"He will find us if it's urgent," I managed, the words rough-edged, scraped from my throat. "We should return to the city."

We walked back down the steep path in silence. But it wasn't the same silence as before. This one crackled, thick with unspoken words, with the ghost of flight, with the dangerous heat that had flared between us. Her scent had irrevocably changed, carrying notes of exhilaration and spice and something uniquely, terrifyinglyHawkthat hadn't been there before the flight. It drove me toward the edge of madness with each shared breath.

As we reached the lower levels, the familiar bustle of the city surrounded us again—too many scents vying for attention, too many clashing sounds grating on over-stimulated nerves. It was overload. I was drowning in sensation, in the crushing weight of restraint, in the lie that felt heavier, more poisonous with each passing moment.

I couldn't do this. Not now. Not with her so close, her altered scent clinging to my scales, the memory of her warmth branded onto my skin, the image of her face alight with joy seared into my mind.

"Return to our quarters," I said abruptly, the command harsher than intended, cutting through the street noise.

She stopped dead, tension rippling through her small frame like a shockwave. "Excuse me?"

"There are matters I must attend to. Alone." I couldn't look at her, couldn't risk her seeing the raw hunger, the fraying control in my eyes. "Return to the quarters. Wait there. I will join you later."

"That wasn't the deal," she countered immediately, anger flaring hot beneath her words, sharp as obsidian shards. "I'm not going back to being locked up while you?—"

"Please." The word tore from me, raw, exposed. Utterly unlike me.

Her breath caught, a sharp intake of surprise flashing across her face, silencing her mid-sentence. I had never begged. Never pleaded. Not until now. For this.

Something in my expression, my voice, must have revealed too much. Shown the crack widening in the dam of my control. Because she hesitated, the anger faltering, replaced by a flicker of … understanding? Caution? Then she gave a slow, reluctant nod.

"Fine," she said quietly, the fight draining out of her, leaving behind a weary tension. "But this conversation isn't over, Khorlar." A promise.

I watched her turn and walk away, each retreating step driving the knife of deception deeper into my own chest. The lie between us had never felt more vast, more damning. But telling her the truthnow… after the deception, after the intimacy of flight, after seeing that spark ignite in her eyes …

I couldn't bear to see the fragile trust, the exhilaration, twist into betrayal. Revulsion. Not yet. Not until I could offer her a choice that wasn't merely the lesser of two evils.

So I turned away, forcing myself in the opposite direction, heading deeper into the city's labyrinthine core. Away from her scent. Away from temptation.

Away from the truth roaring in my blood, rapidly becoming impossible to deny—that I was bound to her, claimed by her as surely as if the Sacred Flame itself had forged the chain between us.

6

HAWK

Crack.

The sound ripped through the cavern. My fist. The dummy shuddered.

Sweat slicked my back; my muscles burned. I spun. I ducked low. Kicked—vicious, satisfying. The post groaned.

Again.

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