Page 71 of A Reign of Malice
I rise onto my toes at the same moment he dips his head. There’s no hesitation, no careful preamble. Our mouths meet in a kiss that sears through my soul like wildfire.
It’s not gentle. It’s ravaging.
He grabs my waist, pulling me flush against him, like he’s terrified I might slip away if we’re not touching everywhere at once. I part my lips, and he groans low in his throat, deepening the kiss, his tongue brushing mine, coaxing and claiming. My knees threaten to buckle, but his arms tighten around me, holding me steady as his mouth moves over mine with a desperation that feels like salvation.
The world falls away.
There’s no war right now. No gods. No death waiting just beyond the next hill.
There’s only him. His lips. His breath. His fire.
My fingers tighten in his hair as I kiss him back with everything I have, everything I’ve lost, and everything I still hope to fight for. My wolf hums in contentment, her joy wrapping around the bond like silk.
When we finally pull apart, it’s only by a fraction, our foreheads pressed together, breath mingling in the quiet that follows.
Julian’s hands stay on my waist, holding me together as his voice dips low, rough with emotion. “You’re everything I never thought I’d have. I don’t know how I survived in that hell for so long, but I know every second of loneliness was worth it, for you.”
I graze the edge of his jaw with the back of my hand, my chest tightening with the sheer magnitude of him—ofus. “You have me now. You’ll never feel that way again.”
He exhales shakily, and for a moment, the silencebetween us says more than words ever could. It hums with possibility, with promises unspoken but deeply understood.
“Whatever comes next,” he murmurs, “I’m not letting you go.”
I rest my hand over his heart, feeling the steady rhythm of it, matching my own. “Good. Because we’re not done yet.”
His smile is small, but it reaches his eyes, warming something inside me that’s been cold for far too long.
“No,” he says softly, brushing a thumb across my cheek. “We’re just getting started.”
We stand there for another breath, suspended in the strength of a bond still forming but already unbreakable.
And for the first time since I realized I couldn’t fix Alcaris, I feel like just maybe I’m right where I was always meant to be.
CHAPTER THIRTY
JULIAN
Clara and Noen return to lead us toward the others, but not before I steal a few more kisses from Sloane. Her taste lingers on my lips, sweet, intoxicating, and addicting. Kissing her feels like reclaiming something I never thought I’d get back: my life, my future, my sanity.
Her touch is full of warmth, her skin as soft as I imagine the clouds to be. Everything about Sloane makes my years of torture seem like a distant memory when I have her in my arms. But the time to truly appreciate all of her isn’t yet. Not in this underground hideaway.
Orsanctuaryas Clara calls it while she leads us further beneath the mountain.
Apparently, not everyone believed Aeson when he declared me dead. Some wolves, led by instinct and quiet resistance, never stopped questioning what truly happened back then.
That alone is more than I ever expected.
I thought they would’ve forgotten me. Or worse, remembered only the lies.
Yet this place, this hidden world carved into the mountain’s bones, tells a different story. One of faith. One of survival.
The tunnels are lined with flickering lanterns, their soft glow bouncing across uneven stone walls. Fresh water glides along carved channels in the rock, humming a steady rhythm beneath our feet. Shelves and crates packed with dried food and roots line the walkways, and herbs hang in bunches from ceiling hooks, their earthy scent blending with wolf musk.
Sleeping quarters are tucked into nooks, filled with hay and folded wool blankets. There are signs of children here too. Small drawings etched into the stone and a pair of carved wooden toys tucked beside a sleeping pallet.
This isn’t just a refuge.
It’s a haven. A hidden heartbeat pulsing beneath the broken kingdom.
