Page 101 of Tharn's Hunt
"What?" I ask, shaking my head.
"You’ve been standing there for, like, five minutes," she says, her brows furrowed. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I lie, forcing a smile. "Just tired."
Pam doesn’t look convinced, but she lets it go.
I glance toward the tunnel again, my chest tightening.
I’min the middle of one of Justine’s lessons when it happens.
A gasp echoes through the chamber, followed by a flurry of whispers.
I turn, my heart leaping into my throat.
Tharn is standing at the tunnel entrance, his gaze sweeping the room until it locks onto me.
His eyes burn with intensity, his expression unreadable.
But it’s the way he moves that sends my heart racing.
He strides toward me with single-minded purpose, his gaze never wavering.
The room falls silent, all eyes on him.
"Tharn," I whisper.
He doesn’t speak. Just stops in front of me, his eyes searching mine.
For a moment, the world narrows to just the two of us.
Tharn moves closer, his massive frame lowering until he’s crouched in front of me.
One large hand rises, his palm cupping my face with a gentleness that makes my breath hitch. His touch is warm, grounding, and so achingly familiar that I feel the tension in my chest begin to unravel.
Around us, the women gasp, their murmurs barely audible over the pounding of my heart. But I don’t look away from him. I can’t.
His eyes burn into mine, their amber-gold brighter than ever, and then his lips part.
"Mine," he growls in English, the word so clear, so final, it leaves no room for doubt.
The word hits me like a lightning strike.
Before I can even process it, he bends forward and captures my lips in a kiss that steals the air from my lungs.
It’s not tentative or soft. It’s consuming. Heat and desperation and relief all rolled into one. His claws graze the edge of my jaw before they close around my throat.
I’m vaguely aware of the stunned silence around us, of the Drakav shifting, their gazes darting between us and the other women. But none of it matters.
All I can feel is Tharn.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead pressing lightly against mine, I’m left breathless, my hands clutching at his arms for stability.
“Mine, Jacqui. For this sol and the next.” I hear his thoughts as clear as day.
"Tharn," I manage, my voice trembling.
But he doesn’t give me a chance to say more. In one swift motion, he scoops me into his arms, cradling me against his chest as if I weigh nothing.
