“Please?” I whisper back as my fingers trace the dripping hair on his nape. “Please let me.”

  “Anything you want.” One of his hands wraps around my back, and I shut my eyes at the rush of heat it brings. I force them open again as his thumb drags over my chin and over my bottom lip, and my entire body quivers with the desperate need to get closer. His hand falls into the water, and I miss the contact. His lips are parted, and they’re perfect, and I stop fighting as I push up on my toes.

  He draws in a gasp and freezes as my mouth lands on his, and a shock of something electric passes between us. My lips are timid, and I’m not sure of anything at all other than I want to know what this feels like with him. How he tastes and how he might taste me back, and the warmth of his breath as it blows across my skin. The rasp of his beard and the cling of his hands, and the sound of my name leaving his lips.

  I want it all.

  My grip tightens around his neck, but still, he doesn’t move. I pull back, opening my eyes as the nerves in my belly flare into a mad storm. What if I’m doing this wrong or he doesn’t want this? Have I misunderstood? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

  What if I’ve made a fool of myself?

  “Katsurrel?” I whisper, and Reyes groans as he snaps out of whatever was holding him back. His hand rakes into my hair, cupping my head as it falls against the rocks.

  “Has anyone ever kissed you, Nyx?”

  Shame tries to overtake the heady bliss, but there’s no judgement, only curiosity and deep understanding. “No. I have never done this.” The heated expression on his face softens at my admission, and he smiles.

  “Close your eyes,” he whispers, and I do as he asks. Without my sight, I focus on my other senses. Water ripples in rolling waves that lap against my skin. A faint breeze flutters among the trees, and sunlight ebbs and flows over my eyelids in a dance of light and dark.

  His fingernails scratch against my scalp, and his chest hair prickles on my skin. He brushes the tip of his nose along mine, then presses a kiss to my cheek as my lips fall apart in a quiet gasp. A low chuckle rumbles from his throat into my ear, and his lips press there, too.

  His beard is coarse against my chin as he moves to my mouth, and I tighten my grip on his neck as his lips feather over mine. I chase his mouth with a breathy whine that’s drowned by his deep laugh, and then finally, finally, he gives me what I want. Soft lips find my own, not still anymore but moving, searching, hot and unwavering against my fumbling ones.

  And it’s bliss, a connection like I’ve never felt with another as the mark on my hand flares to life. My fingers dig into his nape to pull him even closer as I’m surrounded by his warmth. His kiss is certain and steady, but mine is clumsy and awkward, running on nothing but instinct because I’m unwilling to separate myself from him.

  Any worries I’ll mess this up disappear as his quiet whines pass between us. He never hurries, always so gentle when he handles me. His hand is still woven through the strands of my hair, cushioning me from the bite of the rock behind me. Fingers flex against my scalp, and a helpless sound passes from my lips to his.

  He pulls away and rests our foreheads together as we both pant. “Was that too much?” he asks, but I shake my head and yank him to me. He smiles against my mouth, and his lips become more insistent on mine as his free hand tentatively maps my skin. Fingertips trace my spine, and his palm presses on my lower back, touching every part of me like he’s trying to memorize the planes of my body.

  I copy his movements, releasing my hold on his neck and allowing myself to explore. I take my time, cataloguing each detail—the hair on his shoulders that scratches my palms, and the way he gasps when my hands slide lower on his back. The groan that vibrates against my lips when I brush the top of his shorts, and how the sensation is just another thing to add to my growing list of favorites.

  Fingers clutch at skin, and there’s not an inch of space between us. Our bodies rest together, chest to chest, and our legs weave beneath the water’s surface.

  “Still good?” he asks when we both catch our breath. The deep growl of his voice does funny things to my insides, and I squirm with the sensation. It hurts in the most incredible way, like my skin is too tight and I’m seconds away from bursting right out of it to find some relief.

  “Yes,” I insist as I fist his curls and try to pull his mouth back to mine. “More.”

  “Slow down, precious.”

  “Why?” I whine, and he uses his grip in my hair to tilt my eyes to his as a finger lifts to trace along the outline of my mouth.

  “Because this is important… you are important, Nyx. I want to do this right, and that means taking my time with you.” The low, soft way he speaks makes me shiver, and the shudder of my spine only gets worse as he kisses a path to my ear. “I want to savor every single moment I get with you,” he murmurs, “even if it drives me crazy.”

  Tears burn in my eyes as he presses a kiss to the lobe, then returns to my mouth. His gaze locks on mine, noting the moisture that pools there, and he questions me with his eyes. “Thank you,” I whisper, a few tears slipping free when I blink.

  “For what?” He dots faint kisses along the line of my lips, and I squirm from the tickle. He grins, and even through the tears I grin back, and everything is perfect.

  “Showing me this world can be beautiful.” A pained sound leaves his throat as he claims my mouth again. We kiss until my lips are swollen and my chin is raw from his beard, but neither of us are ready to stop. A warm, wet drag glides over my bottom lip as his mouth nudges mine open. When my lips part, he makes a pleased rumbling noise as his hands tighten around me.

  His tongue meets mine gently, always so gently. Knowing a piece of him is in my mouth, inside me, makes me hungry for more. Greedy for anything he’s willing to give me. My fingers flex, fingernails digging into his lower back, and he chuckles again. The sound vibrates against my mouth as he slides his tongue deeper, letting it glide against mine.

  Everything is intoxicating. Tasting him, smelling him… feeling him in this way. His weight against me, the strength of his arms and the softness of his belly and the absolute, explicit safety of being wrapped up in his arms. My hands are on his face again, one cupping his jaw as the other rakes through his hair, and we kiss until we have to come up for air.

  My sigh melts into a content hum as he pulls back, dotting sweet kisses along my lips and cheeks and nuzzling my nose with his. “Come here,” he murmurs, pulling me forward and tucking me into his neck. I breathe in his calming scent, drunk off him as he smooths a palm over my hair. I’m so relaxed I’m drowsy, my eyelids heavy as I curl into him.

  He scoops me into his arms, and I don’t fight it as he carries me to the shallows. “Do you want me to wash you?” He presses another kiss to my temple, and I nod sleepily. He balances me in his arms as long as he can, but when he grabs the soap, he has to set me down. I open one eye and pout, and he chuckles as he cleans himself and then turns his attention to me. Patient hands scrub up my back and over my shoulders, down my arms and across my stomach.

  I still want more, still want everything he offers me, but my body is blissfully sleepy and my mind is quiet. Reyes takes my hand and helps me stand, and we walk to where a few towels hang on the line. They’re sun-warmed and make me even drowsier as he wraps one around my shoulders. He picks me up again, and I curl into the comfort of his chest and let myself fade.

  I know he’ll take care of me.

  Reyes

  A stagnant sort of sweat coats my body. It’s sticky and uncomfortable, and the humid air is so thick it’s hard to breathe.

  I love it.

  Random shelves and tables line the outside edge of the greenhouse. Some were pulled from empty houses, and others came from the collection of extras stashed in the storage building. A few were haphazardly built with scrap wood, but they’re sturdy even if they aren’t pretty. Nyx leans over one of them now, staring at the tiny sprouts in front of him with his face furrowed in concentration.

  A thick, forest-green woven plait drapes over his shoulder. Taryn taught me to braid, and I’ve been practicing on Nyx. He sits between my feet, usually snacking on something I’ve brought him or chattering about whatever is on his mind while I weave the strands, and he doesn’t get impatient when I have to start over. It isn’t perfect. Some sections are thicker than others, and there’s a distinct curve about halfway down, but it’s pretty. He’s pretty, and I take a minute to watch him.

  He’s oblivious to my staring, moving to the next plants when he’s satisfied those sprouts are healthy. “What are these?” he asks, leaning closer and scrunching his face again.

  Fuck, he’s cute. “Broccoli.”

  “The little trees?”

  I chuckle, and he glances over with a sheepish expression. “Yeah, the little green trees. The little white trees are beside them.”

  “Collie-flower?” he attempts, and I grin.

  “Yeah, sweetheart. Collie-flower.”

  “You are teasing me,” he accuses, standing to his full height—his tiny, five-foot-nothing full height—and putting his hands on his hips.

  “Would I do that?” I put my hand over my heart, feigning offense, and he pushes another of those soft, breathy laughs from his nose.

  “Whole ass,” he mutters, and I can’t stop the loud, barking laugh that escapes me. His grin deepens, and he looks awfully pleased with himself. I’m still chuckling as he crouches beside the half barrels on the ground. “Potatoes?”

  “Carrots. The potatoes don’t do well in the heat, so I’m hoping they’ll grow better outside during the colder months.”

  “Cameron was sad the other ones did not get bigger.”

  “He was, but we had enough to make a few meals.”

  Nyx nods, running his fingers across the edge of the makeshift planter. He looks like a witch from one of the fantasy books Cameron loves, standing over his cauldron and deeply in tune with the earth. His eyes snap up and narrow. “What is your face?”

  “Someone’s sassy this morning,” I tease, and he rises as I approach. He tilts his face up to mine, and I take him in, smiling at the fullness of his cheeks. They’re no longer sunken and sickly, and though he is still too thin, he’s putting on weight. Those tiny golden freckles shimmer in the sunlight that trickles through the glass.

  “Can I kiss you?” I ask in a soft whisper, and he nods and wraps his arms around my waist.

  “You don’t have to ask.”

  “I like asking,” I murmur as I rub my nose over his. “It makes it even more real to hear you say yes.”

  “Didn’t say yes.”

  My mouth drops open as an incredulous laugh leaves me, and his lips twitch in another grin. “Do you want my kisses or not?”

  “Yes,” he breathes, and pushes up on his toes to capture my lips. It’s sweet, like the dozens of kisses we’ve shared over the past week, but there’s heat behind this one. Nyx’s fingers clutch at my shirt and try to haul me closer, and I let him. His confidence in this—in us—shows more every day, and my quiet whine slips free as he deepens the kiss, dipping his tongue into my mouth.

  My hands roam down his spine, and he stiffens for a moment as my palms skim his ass. But I keep going until I reach the back of his thighs and hoist him onto the table. It thuds into the wall, and Nyx gasps against our kiss. He pulls away and glances over his shoulder, and I sputter out another laugh.

  “Did you just stop kissing me to check on the plants?”

  The grin on his face takes my breath away as he turns to me again. “Yes.”

  “And how are your precious plants doing?”

  “They are fine,” he says, still wearing a teasing grin as he leans in and attempts to reclaim my lips, but I pull back.

  “You’re sure you don’t need more time with them? I can leave you guys alone if I’m interrupting.”

  “Ass,” he mutters, and I snicker like I do every time he curses. “Maybe they want my kisses instead.”

  “Are you using broccoli to make me jealous?”

  “I was going to kiss the collie-flower, actually,” he says, and it’s so matter-of-fact that I burst out laughing again. He giggles. Giggles. A real, honest-to-the-gods giggle, and I swear my heart swells in my chest at the sound of his happiness. His forehead falls onto my shoulder as his body shakes in silent mirth, and I wrap my arms around him and squeeze him tight, soaking it all in.

  A shocked inhale from the door causes us both to turn. Ronan stands there with his jaw slack, eyes darting between me and Nyx. “Has he ever been speechless?” I whisper loudly, and Nyx breathes another of his quiet laughs.

  “No. Always with the things to say.”

  Ronan blinks a few times, mouth still agape, and Cameron comes into sight with a sigh, pushing on his chin. “You’ll catch flies, babe,” he says as he walks past him and steps inside the greenhouse. One of his brows arches and a troublemaker grin spreads over his face as he clocks the way I stand between Nyx’s knees.

  “Were you two making out in here?”

  “Making… out?” Nyx asks, turning to me in question.

  “It means kissing… a lot,” I explain, trying to keep a straight face because that’s exactly what we were doing. Nyx’s cheeks flame as he ducks his forehead to my shoulder with an embarrassed squeak.

  “Oh my gods, you were!” Cameron squeals, and I tuck Nyx against me as I glare daggers over his head.

  “I will cut you,” I mouth, but Cameron only laughs, so I make a stabbing motion with one hand. Ronan snaps out of it and steps inside, his eyes still locked on me and Nyx.

  “Is that why you’re so stunned, Ro? Did you catch them playing tonsil hockey in here?”

  “Cameron,” I groan, hugging Nyx tighter.

  “No,” Ronan says, eyeballing how Nyx is curled into me and the protective way I’m holding him. “No, they were laughing.” Cameron’s eyes go wide, and I give him a pointed glare, begging them not to make a big deal about this. If Nyx feels uncomfortable letting himself laugh, he might not do it again, and it was such a tremendous step for him.

  Cameron and I stare off for a long moment. He seems to understand what I’m silently projecting, because he gives me a single nod and walks over to the plants. “What’s growing?”

  Nyx squirms, and his head pops up at the question. “Do you want to show him what we’ve done, sirrha?” I ask as I run my hand along his braid. He nods excitedly as Ronan’s glare becomes more concentrated. It’s like I can feel it burning through me like pissed-off little lasers, assessing my every move with Nyx.

  Overprotective ass. I love him and hate him for it.

  “You haven’t trained in a while,” he says as I step closer, half listening to Nyx explain what plants are sprouting on the tables and shelves. “Treasure.”

  “Shut up, dick. I’ve been busy.” I’m still distracted, a smile playing on my lips as Cameron asks questions. I have no idea whether he genuinely doesn’t know the answers, or if he’s just encouraging Nyx to talk. Either way, I appreciate it. I realize Ronan is quiet, so I force myself to pay attention. “Between the garden and getting the greenhouse put together, I’ve been preoccupied.”

  “Let’s not forget your mate.”

  The skeptical tone of his voice grates on my nerves, and I cross my arms over my chest with narrowed eyes. “Do you have something to say about that?” I challenge.

  His cheek pits in a dimple as he chews on the inside, but then he deflates with a long, pointedly annoyed sigh. “No.”

  “You look upset by that.”

  He scoffs again and rolls his eyes. “Yes, I was searching for a way to insult you and tell you why it was such a terrible match. Explain how he could do so much better than a tiny, irritating human with stabby tendencies. It would’ve made my whole day—”

  “You really are evil,” I realize, and he ignores me.

  “—but…” He trails off, and dear gods, his entire face twists into the ultimate show of annoyance.

  “Are you… constipated? Is this your ‘I need more fiber’ face?” I ask, but once again, I’m ignored.

  He finally speaks, forcing the words through gritted teeth. “You’re good for him. It’s obvious when I watch you together,” he says, then grimaces as if it left a foul taste in his mouth.

  “Wow, don’t go overboard with the flattery.”

  “It is painful to say nice things about you,” he complains, but his expression becomes impassive as he shrugs, and he turns serious. “When we first freed him from that cage, I wasn’t sure he’d ever truly escape. If you had told me back then that I would see him like this? Smiling and laughing? I would’ve called you a liar. The Fates may have made mistakes over the years, but the two of you?” He glances over my shoulder at where Nyx and Cameron chat, then he focuses on me again. “This isn’t one of them. You heal him.”

  “Gods,” I choke, horrified as tears pool in my eyes, so I drop my gaze to the ground. I refuse to cry in front of Ronan because I’ll never hear the end of it, but I can’t seem to swallow the heavy emotion. Soft footsteps from bare feet approach, and tiny, adorably round green toes appear in my line of sight.

  “What is wrong?” Nyx asks quietly, wrapping his fingers around my chin as I obediently meet his eyes. Sweet, excruciating tenderness assesses me before Nyx turns to Ronan. “What did you do to him?”

  “Me?!” Ronan barks, and I can’t help my wet laugh at his indignation. “I was being nice for once!”

  “Doubt it,” Cameron chimes in as he leans his hip against a table, smirking.

  Ronan’s scoff is loud, long, and dramatic. “I was.”

  “He’s actually telling the truth,” I say, although Nyx still glares at him with a sternness that contradicts both his size and his quiet temperament. He curls into me like it’s second nature, though his eyes don’t leave Ronan’s.

  “I hope he stabs you again,” Nyx grumbles to Ronan, and Cameron and I both burst out laughing as Ronan throws his hands up. I’m pretty sure he’s done with all three of us.