That night, Kael did not let her sleep.
He pulled her into the furs, his body hot and demanding against hers, his lips devouring every tear, every whisper of doubt. His hands worshiped her, rough and reverent, marking her as his with every touch.
"Say it," he growled, his mouth at her throat.
Her breath shuddered, her fire licking across their skin. "Say what?"
"That you are not curse. Not fear. Say you are fire. Say you are mine."
Her body arched into him, trembling. "I am fire. I am yours. Always."
His green eyes burned with raw devotion. "And I am yours. In this life. In every life. Until the stars themselves fall."
Their passion ignited, fierce and consuming, the flames bending with their bond until the den itself glowed gold. Wolves stirred in the distance, whispering, but none dared disturb them.
That night, her fire did not burn him. It worshiped him.