"Discipline is a blade I have carried all my life, but tonight it feels dull against the fire of a bond I cannot command."
"Alaric—" His voice cracked, wrecked, and needy. "It hurts, gods, it burns—"
Vayne surged forward in me, claws scratching against my control. Mate. Take him. He is begging. He is ours. I clenched my fists at my sides, digging nails into my palms. I could not take him when he was lost to the pull of the first heat.
"Elias." My voice came out lower than I intended, husky, betraying the war in me. I stepped inside the cabin, kicking the door shut behind me. "I am here. Breathe, just breathe for me."
But breathing was the last thing he could manage. He pressed himself against me, body trembling, heat rolling off him in waves that soaked into my bones. His hands roamed up my chest, frantic, desperate. "You don't understand—I need you—I need—"
