Page 45 of Third

He sat there, breathing hard, his muscles trembling with the need to act—to seize, to claim, to make her his in a way no force in the universe couldundo.

And then—

He gave her the choice.

Tor’Vek stilled, his entire body going taut. His hands hovered just inches from her skin, vibrating with the effort it took not to touch her again. His eyes blazed down at her, burning, waiting.

One heartbeat.

Two.

Three.

Anya moved first.

Her fingers lifted—slow, tentative, trembling with the war raging inside her—and fisted into the front of his shirt. Fear clawed at her, but it was drowned beneath the tidal pull of need, fierce and undeniable, sweeping her closer to the edge she could no longer resist.

The instant she touched him, Tor’Vek snapped.

He seized her with a snarl, crushing her against his chest. His mouth found hers in a brutal clash, acollision of need so fierce it shocked her system into flames. The kiss shattered what little control she had left, consuming her, devouring her breath, until there was nothing but Tor’Vek—hot, relentless, and absolutely inescapable.

Her fingers ripped at his shirt, desperate for something to protect her from the overwhelming torrent he unleashed. His hands roamed her body with desperate reverence, mapping every curve, every quiver, every shudder.

And when she whimpered, arching closer, surrendering without words—

He lost the last shred of his control.

His golden canines flashed in the dim light. He buried his face against her throat, inhaling her, scenting her, marking her with the fierce scrape of his teeth—aprimal claim burned into herskin.

Anya cried out softly, not in fear, but in desperate, overwhelmingneed.

Tor’Vek growled low in his throat, asound of possession so deep it vibrated through her bones. He dragged his mouth along her throat, finding the delicate curve of her shoulder, and marked her again, the bond between them flaring hot and vicious and unstoppable.

Anya barely registered the broken sounds escaping her throat—not words, not even cries, just pure, unadulterated need tearing free. The bond between them throbbed wildly, araw, living force that pulsed in time with the frantic beat of her heart, binding them closer with every shuddering breath. Tor’Vek’s mouth seared a trail across her throat, branding her with every scrape of his golden canines, every ragged breath.

When he finally lifted his head, his amethyst eyes blazed—not with anger, not even hunger, but something rawer. Something deeper.

Worship.

He stared at her like she was something holy. Something he could destroy with a touch—and something he would destroy himself to protect.

Rough hands skimmed up her sides, greedy for her warmth, her softness, but reverent too. Her skin was satin over muscle, heated and hypersensitive under his callused palms. Every stroke left goosebumps trailing in their wake, her body arching into his touch like a flower straining toward the sun, helpless and instinctive.

His hands found the jacket she wore, fingers working with barely restrained urgency to strip it from her shoulders. He tossed it aside without care, his palms immediately moving to the hem of her shirt. In a single, breathless motion, he pulled it over her head and discarded it, as well, baring her to the heated press of his hands, which flattened possessively against her now exposed waist. His hands trembled, just once, before gripping her with iron strength, as if centering himself.

“Anya,” he growled, his voice fraying with desperation.

She didn’t know if it was a warning or a prayer.

She answered him the only way she could—arching against him, pressing her mouth to his, opening for him, inviting him deeper.

Tor’Vek moved then, one arm sweeping under her thighs, the other cradling her back. Asoft, startled gasp escaped her lips, and her fingers clutched reflexively at his shoulders, feeling the pure power ofhim.

Her heart thundered wildly, her body straining closer to him as he lifted her from the bench like she weighed nothing, his body moving with fluid, dangerous purpose. His hands tightened as he carried her across the narrow cabin, and every step sent a pulse of anticipation through her blood.

He set her down on a battered sleeping platform, his body coming over hers immediately, bracketing her in, caging her without cruelty. The overwhelming heat of him surrounded her, his weight pressing her into the mattress in a way that should have been suffocating—but instead felt achingly right.

Trapped beneath him, her heart hammered with helpless anticipation, her body arching instinctively into the delicious pressure, welcoming the dominance she had no will to resist. His massive form trembled with the effort to stay gentle when everything in him howled to claim.

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