He wanted it to change, he craved the completion of it. He wanted Veralie to be tied to him in every possible way, to share everything between them. But he also wanted her to choose it, knowing and understanding exactly what she was choosing.
For over a decade, fate had kept them apart. He, having mourned her with every dark corner of his heart, and she, having been trapped in a life she didn’t want or deserve. Now that they’d finally found each other again, he refused to risk ruining it. He wouldn’t take advantage of her ignorance.
Then there was what she’d told Trey about her father. Gods, she didn’t know anything. He needed to tell her that too. She’d be pissed that he hadn’t immediately told her, but he was too selfish and scared of what she’d decide to do with the knowledge. There were so many things they needed to discuss and figure out, but he’d help her through it all, even the dark parts.
He continued staring at the stairs for another moment longer, imagining his aitanta, sated and washed, curled up in bed, waiting for him. He swore right then and there, he would tell her everything as soon as he had her safely on his vessel.
Pulling his shit together, Jaren forced himself to leave the inn and headed out into the night.
∞∞∞
It had taken him longer than he’d hope to get back, and he was exhausted. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d slept well. If he fell on the bed now, he could still get several blissful hours. But he also knew if he found his mate awake, sleep was not what would happen.
Turning the key slowly, he eased the door open and stepped over the threshold. The room was filled with Veralie’s star-fire scent mixed with the dull aroma of cheap lavender soap. The tub was still full of water—albeit cold now, but it was the scene on the other side of the room that stole his breath.
Veralie was curled on her side in bed, her damp curls strewn about the pillow as if they were stretching out, enjoying the rare freedom from the plait she normally forced them into. Her mouth was parted, and one hand rested just under her chin.
The blanket was pulled up just under her chest with one long leg pushed out, seeking the cool air. She’d apparently chosen to scrub her clothing and had instead donned one of Jaren’s newly purchased tunics while hers laid out to dry across the floor.
She was fucking beautiful. It took every ounce of self-control he had to head toward the tub instead of her. He wanted to climb in beside her, but even he knew he smelled. Sucking in a breath against the temperature, he washed up the best he could with the used soap and water and scrubbed his clothes before finally climbing behind her in just his undershorts.
His star twitched but didn’t wake when the mattress dipped beneath his weight. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and pull her flush against him, but he hesitated.
She’d initiated their intimacy earlier, but that didn’t automatically mean she’d be okay with him touching her again. She’d acknowledged he thought they were mates, but she hadn’t verbally accepted it herself yet.
Cursing himself for even considering it, he rolled onto his back. He closed his eyes, desperately trying to ignore the body lying mere inches away.
∞∞∞
Something roused him to consciousness, and he was tempted to fight it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so deeply. He usually had a habit of lurching awake to every noise, and if he dreamed, it wasn’t pleasant. But lying there, he’d never felt so completely content.
A subtle movement caught his attention right before a voice broke the silence. “Jaren.”
Cracking his eyes open, he glanced down, spotting the female prostrate beneath him. She was laying on her stomach with her face smashed into her pillow, causing his name to come out muffled. He’d gravitated to her sometime during the night and wrapped his limbs around her. He hummed in approval.
Sprawled across her like he was, he could feel the contour of her ass beneath his hips and couldn’t fight the thrill that raced through him. He remembered the toned, naked leg he’d seen peeking out last night and reveled in the fact that only their underclothes separated them.
“Jaren.”
“Hm?”
She struggled to lift her head, trying to uncover more of her mouth. “I know we agreed not to kill each other, but if you don’t stop trying to suffocate me, I’ll launch your ass across the room.”
He sighed, shifting further on top of her. “I’m actually quite comfortable. You make a good—”
She raised her arms, pressing her palms flat against the mattress, and giving him just enough of a warning. As she shoved off the mattress, Jaren wrapped his arms around her waist. True to her word, she launched him straight off the bed. He just made sure to take her along with him.
Taking the brunt of the fall, Jaren landed with a loud thunk, the still-damp clothes on the floor rumpled and cold under his bare back. Neither of them moved for a moment—him recovering from the landing, and her likely trying to convince herself not to throttle him.
“I know we agreed not to kill each other, little star, but if you don’t stop trying to suffocate me…”
She stiffened, exactly how he knew she would, and he smirked. Point one for him. “You know, you’re heavier than you look.”
She slammed her elbow into his stomach, causing him to relax his hold enough for her to roll off. She jumped to her feet, glaring down at him as he tried, and failed, to rein in a painful chuckle.
Clutching his stomach, he stood, finally able to look at her head-on. Veralie’s eyes were narrowed, and her frizzy hair billowed around her like its own entity. It was honestly impressive in its size. He let his eyes roam about her face, watching the subtle changes as her irritation rose.
“Stop ogling me.”
“I’m not. Your hair was just telling me good morning.”
She crossed her arms, a blush creeping up her neck as she furiously patted her curls down. “Well, something of you is telling me good morning, but it’s not your hair.”
Jaren glanced down at the erection tenting his undershorts, and then with exaggerated slowness, raised his eyes up her bare legs. He shrugged, unconcerned, even though the sight of her wearing his clothes made him anything but calm. “I don’t blame it.”
Dropping her arms, Vera took a single step toward him, her face beat red with both frustration and something else. Jaren didn’t feel the least bit guilty. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt playful, not since he was a kid he supposed.
Not since he’d last had her.
Chapter 24
VERA
She was going to kill him. Or at least rip the smirk off his face and shove it right up his—No. She couldn’t. She needed him to get her to Bhasura. Not to mention, he was kind of, sort of, her mate. Or something. But still, she was tempted to whack him upside his stupid head.