“Come in,” I say, voice steadier than I feel.

He slips inside, shutting the door softly behind him. His golden eyes flicker over me with that measured, careful intensity of his. He’s changed clothes—clean, dry, sharp lines and soft fabric that clings to his tall frame in a way that should be illegal.

“I wanted to check on you,” he says. “And... apologize.”

I blink. “For what?”

“The boathouse. I told you you could get cell reception there. I didn’t think you’d go immediately, and definitely not in a storm.”

I huff a quiet laugh. “That’s on me. I’m stubborn.”

He steps closer, the firelight casting honeyed tones on his hair. “You’re brave. Reckless, maybe—but brave.”

His voice is low now. Serious. And when he sits beside me on the edge of the bed, the mattress dips, bringing us even closer. I can smell the spice of his cologne, the subtle edge of something rich beneath it—his alpha scent. It pulls at something deep inside me, something soft and liquid and aching.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if something had happened to you,” he says.

I look up, startled.

His eyes search mine, voice trembling just enough to betray the emotion under the surface. “You scared me.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.”

The air shifts. Thickens.

He leans in, so slowly I have every chance to stop him—but I don’t. His mouth meets mine in a kiss that’s nothing like the teasing banter we’ve shared. It’s deep. Possessive. Velvet heat and desperate need.

I gasp, and he groans softly, his hand sliding around my waist, pulling me into him like he can’t stand another inch between us. I melt, body arching into his, the omega inside me roaring awake, demanding more.

His weight presses me gently back onto the bed, lips trailing to the curve of my jaw, my throat. My body pulses with desire, my scent spiking so hot and sharp I can feel it in the air.

But—

“Corwyn,” I whisper, fingers pressing lightly to his chest.

He stills immediately, breath coming hard.

“I... I want to. But I can’t. Not right now.”

He lifts his head, eyes blazing—but he nods. Slowly. Carefully.

“You’re worth waiting for,” he says, voice hoarse. “I’ll wait as long as you need.”

I close my eyes, heart thundering. Because the truth is—I don’t know what I want right now. There are three of them. All powerful, all patient, all looking at me like I’m already theirs.

And part of me aches to give in. To belong.

But another part still isn’t sure what that means.

Corwyn brushes a thumb along my cheek before standing.

“I’ll be here,” he says. “When you’re ready.”

And then he’s gone, the scent of him lingering long after the door clicks shut behind him. I lie there, trembling—not from fear, but from the storm inside me that hasn’t even begun to calm.

Chapter thirty-one