Page 69 of Gunnar

“They’re put down.”

“Put down?” I echo, shuddering. This whole culture is so alien. “So brutal.”

“For them, it’s mercy,” Gunnar says gravely.

I stare at him.

“But it’s rare,” he adds. “Most of us find our mate eventually.”

“How?”

He shrugs, looks up at the sky again. “The universe has a way of handling it.”

Something about the way he says it makes my stomach flip.

“And the ones who do find their mate?”

“They’re happy,” he says simply. “They fit each other. Perfectly.”

The words hang in the cold air between us. The clearing is silent, the forest dark around its edges, the sky blazing with stars.

Gunnar is very close, the heat of his body cutting through the cold night air.

“Sounds… nice,” I say quietly.

His gaze drops from the sky to me. “You have no idea.”

I go still.

Then Gunnar reaches up and brushes a strand of hair away from my face.

His hand doesn’t drop.

It lingers against my cheek, rough and warm.

“Alexandria,” he says.

The way he says my name is softer than before.

Then he leans down and kisses me.

His lips meet mine in a soft crush.

They’re lush, blissful.

For a moment the world disappears.

There’s just the pressure of his mouth, the warmth of his body, the way he holds me like he never wants to let me go.

A moan escapes me, and his hand comes up to the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair as he tilts my head and kisses me again—deeper this time, his tongue sliding into my mouth.

I gasp softly against him.

Our bodies press together, heat surging between us despite the freezing night air.

At last, we break apart, but he stays close, forehead touching mine, our breath mingling in the frigid air. His arms are still wrapped around me, holding me tight.

All I can do is stare back at him in shock.