Chapter 24

The Edge of It

Lyra should have left.

Every rational thought still functioning inside her understood that immediately.

Kael sat across the war room barely holding himself together, golden eyes fixed on her with the kind of restraint that looked physically painful. The entire room smelled like smoke, wolf, blood, and whatever strange fever currently burned through both of them.

Leaving was the smart choice.

Unfortunately, Lyra had never been particularly talented at protecting herself from dangerous men who looked lonely.

Outside, the storm battered Blackfang hard enough to shake the fortress windows.

Inside, neither of them moved.

“Lyra.”

Kael said her name again more quietly this time.

Not commanding.

Warning.

And still—

she stepped closer anyway.

Kael’s entire body reacted instantly.

His hand tightened hard against the stone floor beside him while something low and animalistic vibrated briefly in his chest before he forced it back down.

The sound hit Lyra like heat beneath skin.

“You need to stop doing that,” Kael muttered roughly.

“What?”

“Walking toward me when I’m trying to stay away from you.”

The honesty of it landed painfully somewhere beneath her ribs.

Lyra stopped only a few feet away now.

Close enough to properly see the damage.

The claw wounds along his forearms looked worse under direct firelight, fresh blood streaking down skin where partial shifting had broken through control again. One sleeve had been torn almost completely open near the shoulder.

And still—

Kael looked at her like none of that mattered compared to the danger of her standing this close.

“You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll survive.”

“That’s becoming your favorite sentence.”

Kael laughed once softly beneath his breath.

Tired.

Frayed.

“Occupational hazard.”

The moon fever pulsed sharply through her again without warning.

Lyra physically grabbed the edge of the strategy table to steady herself.

Instant mistake.

Because Kael noticed immediately.

His attention dropped toward her throat.

Then lower.

Toward the silver markings glowing visibly beneath the collar of her loose nightshirt now.

The air changed around him all at once.

“Don’t,” he said quietly.

But this time the word sounded directed at himself.

Lyra’s pulse hammered unevenly.

Every instinct in her body felt sharpened unbearably around him now. The warmth of the room. The sound of his breathing. The scent of cedar and wolf surrounding her until thinking itself became difficult.

And worse—

part of her no longer wanted distance either.

Kael saw that realization happen.

His expression darkened immediately.

Not anger.

Recognition.

“Tell me to leave,” Lyra whispered.

The room went still.

Kael stared at her for several long seconds after that.

Then very slowly:

“I don’t think I can.”

The confession shattered something fragile between them instantly.

Lyra crossed the remaining distance before courage disappeared.

One step.

Then another.

Until she stood directly in front of him.

Kael looked up at her from where he sat against the stone wall, every muscle in his body visibly tense now.

Waiting.

Fighting.

“You’re still shaking,” Lyra murmured softly.

Kael’s jaw tightened.

“You smell like moonlight and blood right now.” His voice roughened lower. “I genuinely don’t know how to explain what that’s doing to me.”

The words sent heat racing painfully through her stomach.

Lyra lowered herself slowly onto the floor beside him.

Close enough that their knees nearly touched.

Kael inhaled sharply the second she settled there.

“Lyra…”

But there was no command left in his voice anymore.

Only strain.

She reached toward his injured arm carefully.

Slow enough to give him time to stop her.

He didn’t.

Her fingertips brushed lightly against the cuts along his forearm.

The reaction was immediate.

Kael’s head dropped back briefly against the stone wall behind him while a rough sound escaped low in his throat like the contact physically hurt.

Or relieved him.

Possibly both.

The silver marks beneath Lyra’s skin flared brighter instantly.

And suddenly Kael’s control cracked.

His hand closed around her waist fast enough to pull her directly into him before either of them fully processed the movement.

Lyra gasped softly as his body pressed against hers.

Warm.

Solid.

Dangerously close.

Kael buried his face briefly against the side of her neck like a starving man trying not to bite.

The feeling nearly shattered her composure completely.

Every nerve in her body lit up at once.

The heat.

The scent of him.

The rough uneven sound of his breathing against her skin.

And underneath all of it—

something ancient waking hungrily beneath the silver bloodline inside her.

Kael’s wolf surged suddenly too close to the surface.

Lyra saw it happen.

His pupils flashed fully gold while claw tips broke briefly through human nails against her waist hard enough to tear fabric.

Not enough to hurt.

Enough to frighten both of them.

“Fuck.”

The curse came out rough and breathless against her throat.

Kael physically trembled trying to hold himself together.

And then—

his mouth brushed the sensitive skin just below her ear.

Not a kiss.

Worse.

The slow scrape of teeth.

Lyra’s entire body reacted violently.

A soft broken sound escaped her before she could stop it.

The moment Kael heard it—

something inside him snapped.

He moved suddenly.

Violently.

Not toward her.

Away.

Kael shoved himself backward hard enough to slam into the strategy table behind him, knocking maps and whiskey glasses crashing violently onto the floor.

Breathing hard.

Eyes wild.

One hand gripping the edge of the table like he needed pain to stay human.

“No.”

The word came sharp enough to cut through the room.

Not directed at her.

At himself.

Lyra stared at him stunned while Kael dragged both hands roughly through his hair, chest rising unevenly now.

For one terrifying second, genuine fear crossed his face again.

Not fear of wanting her.

Fear of what would happen if he stopped resisting it.

The room smelled overwhelmingly of wolf instinct and moon fever now.

Too much.

Too intimate.

Too close to something irreversible.

Kael looked at her like he was hanging from the edge of himself by sheer force alone.

Then hoarsely:

“If I touch you again right now…” He swallowed hard once. “I won’t stop where I’m supposed to.”

The silence afterward felt devastating.

Because neither of them fully wanted him to stop anymore.