Page 55 of Claimed By the Vykan
Here, with an alien who knew almost nothing about her, she felt strangely seen. Kyrax, in all his power and difference and unreadable silence, had given her more respect in a handful of days than her father had shown her in a lifetime.
She wondered what her siblings would think. Her brother with his polished cruelty, her sisters with their perfectly measured lives, each of them driven by the faint hope of one day inheriting their father’s approval. She could almost see their faces if they learned where she was now—if they saw her like this, resting against the chest of a warrior from another world.
Maybe there was a reason I never chose a path back on Earth.
Maybe it was because I didn’t belong there.
She shifted slightly, not wanting to disturb him but needing to settle closer, drawn by the warmth radiating through his skin. His arm tightened subtly around her, an instinctive reaction that made something melt low in her chest. His presence enveloped her—his heat, his stillness, the immense power coiled beneath his skin. Instead of fear, she felt a sense of rightness that confused her even more.
Kyrax.
The Vykan.
Something had changed between them tonight, something she didn’t yet know how to name. The thread between them feltthicker, more alive. She sensed him even before he moved, felt the faint shifts in the air when he breathed. His power pulsed against her, no longer strange or threatening, but strangely reassuring.
She wasn’t afraid of him anymore.
Not of his strength, not of the path ahead, not of the possibility that her life might remain bound to this new world.
She would learn what she needed to learn.
She would adapt, as she always had.
She would find her place, even if that place defied everything she once imagined her future would be.
Exhaustion settled over her in a warm, heavy wave, dissolving the last threads of doubt. She let her eyes drift closed, surrendering to the half-dreaming calm that his touch drew out of her. The memory of how he had made her feel lingered in her body, glowing like a banked ember, one she knew would ignite again the moment she reached for him.
If this is madness,she thought, sinking deeper into the warmth of him,then let it be madness. I’m too tired to fight the truth right now.
She drifted into sleep with his fingers still combing through her hair, the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her cheek, and the quiet understanding that something irreversible had begun.
CHAPTER 26
Kyrax left her sleeping.
Morgan lay tangled in the sheets of his bed, one arm curved loosely over where his chest had been, hair spilled across the pillow in a dark, silken fan. Her breathing was deep and even now, steadier than when he had first taken her into his arms. The bond between them rested in a slow, strong pulse at the edge of his awareness—no jagged spikes of distress, no unstable surges.
She was calm.
She was whole.
She was his.
He allowed himself one last moment beside the bed, standing in the half-shadow and watching her. The markings along his chest and arms still glowed faintly from the resonance of their joining, dimming gradually as her body adjusted. She had not collapsed. She had not descended into panic or broken beneath the weight of his presence.
Their mating had held.
Her mind had held.
Her body had taken everything he feared it might reject.
For the first time in longer than he could remember, something like euphoria threaded through him. He had felt her emotion when he touched her—shock, yes, and fear braided with desire—but also a fierce, instinctive acceptance. She had reached back. She had met him.
He had not concealed what he was.
He had not gentled his nature.
And still she had opened to him.
