Chapter 44: A Beautiful Reunion

Hecate POV

We left the training field without drawing attention.

Or perhaps we did draw attention. Perhaps the warriors saw the way we walked too close together, the way our shoulders brushed, the way our eyes kept finding each other. I did not care. I could not care. The only thing I could feel was the heat of him beside me, the pull of the bond tightening in my chest like a fist around my heart.

We barely made it to my chamber.

The door had barely closed behind us when his hands were on me, pulling me against him, his mouth finding mine with a hunger that stole the breath from my lungs. I fisted my hands in his shirt, pulling him closer, closer, as if I could crawl inside his skin and live there.

He walked me backward toward the bed, his lips never leaving mine. My knees hit the edge of the mattress, and I fell back, pulling him down with me.

His mouth left mine and traveled down my neck, hot and insistent, kissing and licking and sucking. I arched beneath him, my fingers tangling in his dark hair, pulling him closer.

"Maddox," I gasped.

He did not answer. He was too busy. His mouth moved lower, tracing the line of my collarbone, the curve of my breast, the sensitive skin of my stomach. I squirmed beneath him, my body already aching, already burning.

When he reached the place between my legs, I thought I might die.

His mouth was warm and skilled, his tongue moving in ways that made me see stars behind my closed eyes. I grabbed the sheets beneath me, twisting them in my fists, moaning louder than I intended. My chest heaved. My hips bucked against his mouth. I could not think. Could not breathe. Could only feel.

Oh, how I had missed this. How I had missed the way he made me feel, like I was the only woman in the world, like nothing existed beyond the four walls of this room.

When he finally entered me, his golden eyes were blazing with something feral. Hungry. Wild. The man and the beast both looking at me, wanting me, taking me.

I pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him.

His hands found my waist, gripping me tightly as I began to move. Slow at first, then faster, then faster still. I dug my nails into his chest, leaving crescent moons in his skin. He groaned, his head falling back against the pillow, his hips bucking up to meet mine.

We moved together like that for a long time, lost in each other, lost in the heat and the sweat and the desperate, clawing need.

Then he flipped me over.

He drove into me with a force that made me cry out, his mouth covering mine to swallow the sound. Our breaths mingled. Our hearts pounded in unison. The bond between us blazed so brightly I could barely see.

When we came, it was together, our bodies shuddering, our hands clasped, our foreheads pressed against each other.

We collapsed onto the bed, tangled in the sheets, our skin slick with sweat. My legs were shaking. My chest was heaving. I could not remember the last time I had felt so thoroughly wrecked.

Maddox pulled me against his chest, his arm wrapped around my waist, his nose buried in my hair.

"I wish I could wake up and hold you like this every morning," he murmured.

I laughed softly, tracing idle patterns on his chest. "Do you fall in love this easily with every woman you take to bed?"

He was quiet for a moment. Then he lifted his head and looked at me, his golden eyes serious.

"You are not every woman." He cupped my face in his hand, his thumb brushing across my cheek. "I feel a connection with you that I cannot explain. A rightness. The last time I felt anything like this was with my former mate."

My heart stuttered.

"Samantha," I said. It was not a question.

He nodded, his expression darkening. "You must have heard the stories. The servants talk. The guards whisper."

"Pieces," I said carefully. "I have heard pieces."

"She fled in the middle of the night. Three years ago. Left without a word, without a trace." His hand fell away from my face, and he stared at the ceiling. "I searched for her for months. I tore through forests and villages and packs. But she was gone. As if she had never existed."

"And you still love her."

He did not answer immediately. His jaw tightened. His hand found mine and held it.

"I do not know what I feel anymore. Guilt. Regret. A longing for something I cannot name." He turned his head to look at me. "But when I am with you, those feelings quiet. When I am with you, I feel like I can breathe."

I looked down at the pendant around his neck, the small vial of blood warm against his skin. My blood. Samantha's blood. The symbol of everything he had done wrong and everything he still did not understand.

"People tell me she was a soother," I said. "That she calmed your curse. That is why you kept her close."

His hand tightened on mine. "It started that way. But it became more. At least for me."

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that the months we had spent together, the nights tangled in each other's arms, the whispered I love yous, had meant something. But Odette's words echoed in my mind. You used her. You let her believe you loved her when all you wanted was her blood.

"Should I be flattered or worried," I said, keeping my voice light, "that you are comparing me to a woman who fled from you in the middle of the night?"

Maddox opened his mouth to answer, then closed it. He could not find the words. He did not know how to tell me that getting close to him was dangerous, that the women who loved him ended up broken or dead.

I saw the conflict in his eyes. The guilt. The fear.

And I felt a flicker of something else. Sympathy. Pity. Love, buried so deep I did not want to name it.

"How about we enjoy this moment," I said, reaching up to play with the pendant around his neck, "without trying to understand what is happening between us?"

He let out a slow breath. His hand covered mine, pressing my palm against his chest, over his heart.

"I would like that," he said.

We kissed again, slower this time. Tender. Full of something that felt dangerously close to love.

The bells began to toll outside, distant and melodic.

I pulled on a robe and walked to the balcony, pushing open the doors. The cold air rushed in, raising goosebumps on my bare arms. Below, in the courtyard, a caravan was making its way through the gates.

Emrich had returned.

Ysabella was running toward him, her skirts held high, her dark hair streaming behind her. Aileen was on her hip, her small arms reaching for her father, her laughter carrying up to where I stood.

Emrich swept them both into his arms, spinning them around, his face split in a wide grin. Ysa was crying, Aileen was giggling, and the three of them stood in the snow, holding each other like they would never let go.

It was a beautiful sight. A family reunited. Love, pure and uncomplicated and real.

I felt Maddox come up behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder.

"He is a good man," Maddox said, watching Emrich lift Aileen onto his shoulders. "Loyal. Honorable. Everything a Beta should be."

"His family adores him."

"They do." Maddox pressed a kiss to my temple. "It is good to see them happy."

I leaned back against his chest, watching the reunion below. Ysa was laughing now, wiping tears from her cheeks, her hand clasped in Emrich's. Aileen was patting her father's head, babbling about her adventure in the forest, about the healer who had saved her.

Emrich looked up then, his gaze scanning the castle walls. He saw me on the balcony. He nodded, a brief acknowledgment, and something flickered in his eyes. Gratitude, perhaps. Or curiosity.

I nodded back.

Maddox tightened his arms around me. "Come back to bed," he murmured against my ear. "The day can wait."

I turned in his arms and looked up at him. His golden eyes were soft, the hard edges of the king smoothed away by the intimacy of the moment.

"Just a few more minutes," I said. "I want to watch them a little longer."

He smiled and pulled me closer, and we stood together on the balcony, watching the family below, pretending that we were not hiding from a truth that could destroy everything.