Page 32 of Ashborne Forged

Caution sang in my chest, and instead of reaching for her, I made myself lean back against the table, giving her a moment, while I folded my arms to keep my hands off her.

Catching my gaze, Grace stood there in her leathers, staring back. Adorably, when I didn’t speak—not trusting my voice not to gravel and sound angry, because it was ragged with need—she grew awkward. First clasping her hands at her waist as she would in a gown, in a ballroom. Then dropping them to her sides, her eyes flicking away, before looking at me again. Her hands twitched, and then she folded her arms under her breasts in a reflection of my stance.

I smiled wider. When she was this close, and I paid attention, her feelings were open to me. I sensed her heat rising in the bond, felt that flip of need in her belly, right alongside the flutter of nerves.

I cocked my head, swallowing and trying to keep my voice light. “Do I make you nervous?” I asked her genuinely, cursing myself for the fact.

Grace shook her head, but the way she bit her lip made her a liar.

That was sobering. I unfolded my arms and gripped the edge of the table, curling my nails under the wood to hide the tension in me. “I don’t want you to ever be afraid of me, Grace.”

“I’m not,” she said quickly. “Unless you grow angry.”

God, that was a punch to the stomach.

“But it helps, being able to feel you,” she continued. “I can’t always tell, but I feel you right now. I like it.”

I went still. “What do you like?”

“You want me.”

“I do. Desperately.”

Her smile grew more sure. “Why can I feel you so much better now?”

I swallowed. “We completed the bond.”

“But, even now, sometimes I can feel you clearly—like now. And other times, not much at all. It’s foggy.”

I frowned. “It’s all new. We can work on it together while we’re here. But, I assume it’s similar to our bonds with the dragons. Proximity is important. The closer we are physically, the more clearly we can feel, and hear each other.”

Her eyes widened as she nodded. “I could hear you. When Gil was there. I heard you,” she said quietly. “But I couldn’t reach you. Koa said the bond is healing and it will grow. That soon I’ll be able to talk to you, too.”

Anticipation twirled in my guts. I nodded, then reached for her in the bond, testing. ‘That would be… perfect.’

Her eyes widened, then her brows pinched in concentration. ‘I… think so… as well.’

The words reached me as if across a long distance, dampened. Foggy was right. But it was a thrill to hear her at all. ‘I heard you!’

Her smile made the room brighter, as a wash of desire and thrill reached me through the bond.

‘Grace—’

‘I’m…’ she frowned again, but closed her eyes, her smile creeping back as she focused, and her voice strengthened in my head. ‘I want you… my mate.’

Those words, such a simple, blunt declaration, hit me like a blow to the solar-plexus. Without thought, I pushed off the table and closed the space between us, taking her in my arms and devouring her mouth, reveling when she threw her arms around me and welcomed the kiss with such fervor, the surge within me was alarming.

Caution sang in my chest again, and I inhaled sharply, gripping her hair and keeping her there as I straightened, already panting.

“Why did you stop?” she whispered, blinking.

“Because…” I smiled, stroking fingers into her hair, but keeping a grip on her so she wouldn’t reach up for me. “I want to show you the particular pleasure of delayed gratification,” I said, my voice ragged.

Her pupils dilated. “I understand the words, but in this? You mean… waiting? I have waited, Voski—”

“No, no. Not that kind of waiting,” I rasped. Then I took her hands—which had made their way to my chest—and pulled them from me with a smile that promised everything she wanted and more. “Stand at attention, Flameborne,” I whispered, giving them back to her.

Her brows pinched and she tipped her head, but her eyes never left mine, and in the bond, I felt a rush of something more than simple need. Something warm, and humbling.