Page 106 of Awakened Ash and Alchemy

She stepped into the doorway.

What! He was the one rejecting her?

Zarek moved.

In the blink of an eye, he vaulted across the room, pulled her back inside, and slammed the door shut.

“Screw the rules,” he growled.

And he kissed her.

All the want, the hunger, and centuries of isolation and discipline—gone. He crushed his mouth to hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as power rippled between them. Desire. Lust. Need. It made the Claiming roar to life, but beneath it was him. Just him. Wanting her. She was right, he could tell that it was his own emotions, and not the Claiming’s at all.

The staves on his armor flared—not gold, but white—in a blinding flash of heat that seared through the air.

And then they vanished.

Zarek broke the kiss, breathing hard, his chest heaving as he held her by the arms.

The staves were as silent as the dragon inside. And for the first time in over three centuries, his magick wasn’t fighting him. It wasn’t straining against control or prowling along the edges, poking holes to break free.

The magick inside simply settled. Like it had gotten what it had been waiting for.

And for the first time, he understood.

His magick had known before he did. It had recognized her in the space between heartbeats, from the moment she’d walked into his world and said… There you are.

While he was the fool who’d taken this long to catch up.

Now it was her turn.

Angela stared up at him, lips parted, eyes wide.

He waited for her to pull away. To slap him. Or run.

But this wasn’t the Claiming. The Claiming would have taken and consumed without waiting for consent.

No, this was him. Choosing her. And praying she chose him back.

THIRTY-SEVEN

That kiss had stripped her bare. Angela’s lips were swollen, as the blood rushed beneath the surface where his mouth had claimed hers. Even his taste lingered like rainy summer storms. And with it, every inner defense, every carefully built wall, and crafty lie she’d told herself about staying safe, staying single…

Gone.

She stared up at Zarek, lips parted, heart hammering.

He was waiting for consent. Or for her to say no.

“It’s okay.” And she meant that. “You don’t have to stop. You can kiss me again, if you like.”

Something broke in his eyes—relief, hunger, need—and that flicker of his lips that bloomed into that sweet-sweet secret smile. He flicked the air, and the doors at both ends of the library locked like magic, and then his mouth was on hers again.

But this time, it was different.

Slower. Deeper. He kissed her in a more intimate way that ignited a sea of arousal low in her belly.

His lips moved against hers in a way that stole her breath, as if learning the way her mouth moved with his. His tongue swept inside, and she opened for him, meeting him stroke for stroke, as if he had all the time in the world and intended to savor every millisecond.