Page 32 of Elas

Elas

Hourslater,Iwakefrom the deepest sleep I’ve had in years. Dawn is breaking outside, and the light from the bathroom trickles in to highlight the blonde hair tucked under my chin.

August.

My arms are wrapped around him, hugging him against me as his breath comes in a steady rhythm. I’m surrounded by his smell, which causes something in my gut—and lower—to awaken at the realization that he’s coated in my scent. Between wearing my clothes, using my soap and shampoo, and sleeping in my bed, he smells like me.

He smells like mine.

Another rush of recklessly potent need charges through my system as I tuck my nose into his hair and take a deep inhale. Sometime in the night, he turned his back to me, and now my arm is thrown across his waist, pinning his body against mine. My hips flex forward, the frictioncausing a quiet grunt to form in August’s throat. Every cautionary warning in my mind dissolves at the sound.

“August,” I murmur, dragging my nose along the crook of his neck. His spine arches as he takes a deep inhale, the motion flexing his ass against me. This time, it’s me who groans as my hand moves down to his hip. His muscles kick under my touch as I curl my fingertips around his hipbone.

A low moan rumbles from his throat, only half awake. “Mmm, El?” His voice is raspy and sleep-worn, and a sound that’s somewhere between a growl and a purr forms in my chest.

He said my name.

He knows it’s me behind him.

Not some fantasy lover from a dream, or illusion of someone else.Me.

My fingers flex as I rock my hips forward, my lips parting in a quiet gasp as my entire body comes to life. He sucks in a deep breath as my cock presses into him, then releases it as he rolls back against me. I slip my fingertips under the waistband of his pants, desperate for more of this contact that feels like a drug, but he freezes, unnaturally still.

“What the hell?” Shock raises his voice, and I jerk my hand from his body and push away so hard I nearly catapult myself off the bed.

“Fuck, fuck,fuck!I’m… fuck, I’m sorry. Gods, I wasn’t… I wasn’t thinking.” My heart kicks triple speed in my chest as I stare at his tense shoulders. What the hell was I doing? Dry humping his ass before he even woke up, like a damn beast? “August, I’m so sorry. I was asleep, and… can we just—”

“What thehell!?” His shout blasts through the otherwise silent room, and he sits straight up, his back still facing away from me. Guilt carves an erosive path through my veins, the sensation causing my hand to fly up to my bare chest.

That’s when I see it… when the ground shifts beneath my feet.

That’s when I can’t breathe.

“Gods, what is this? Whatisthis?” August rips his shirt off in a panic and flings it like it’s poison. He twists his entire body to face me and he kneels on the bed, not far from where I knelt just hours ago. Directly above his heart is a soft yellow glow, shaped almost perfectly like my hand. It shimmers off his skin, swirling and pulsing underneath the surface, brightening and dimming as the light dances. It’s alive, and it calls to me. Pleads with me to come closer… to touch. Take.

Claim.

“Elas?” His voice gets higher, more frantic, as my eyes drag from the mark to his face. Unadulterated, unfiltered panic stares back at me. “Elas, what’s wrong with me?” The crack of his voice is a knife to my chest, and I reach for him, needing to feel his body calm.

“Come here,” I say, my voice raw. He crashes into my embrace, tucking his head into my neck like it’s always belonged right there in the curve of my shoulder. “It’s… I…” A rough swallow works my throat as I slide my hand between us and show him my mark. “I have one, too,” I whisper. He traces over my palm and up around my fingertips, his heart thundering and his breathing unsteady.

My thoughts race at a thousand miles an hour, and I’m convinced that August is the only thing keeping me tethered to reality. If I let go of him, I’ll simply float away with nothing to hold me to the ground.

Mate.

Mymate.

Memories make a rapid-fire dash through my mind as I recall my conversation with Ronan after he showed me his mark.“I think if the Fates gave me a mate, I’d guard that shit with my life. It’s a gift, Ronan.”I glance down at August, who mindlessly traces my hand.

A gift.

Something cinches around my middle, desperately wanting me to get closer to him. It doesn’t matter that he’s practically sitting in my lap. It wants more.

Demandsit.

“What does this mean, El?” Another flood of longing tramples my chest as I open my mouth, internally battling how to articulate what needs to be said, and suddenly terrified of how he’ll take the news. But before I can even consider how to start, his next words stop me in my tracks. “The flyer said we need to report this to medical immediately.”

“Flyer?”

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