Page 26

Mine.

She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. "Raxen…"

"Amara, you're perfect."

He began to move, setting a rhythm of worship and conquest. Her moans matched his thrusts, her hips rising to meet him.

"You feel… so good," she gasped, her head falling back. "Why does this feel so good? You're unlike any man. How is that possible?"

He bent his head down, his lips brushing her ear as he drove into her again. "Because I'm yours, Amara."

She let out a shuddering sigh, as if that simple truth settled something deep within her. "Well," she managed. "Then don't hold back."

He let go of the last thread of control, his thrusts growing deeper and faster, a primal rhythm that chased them toward a shared peak. The mate bond wasn't just humming now; it was singing, a crescendo of recognition that wrapped around them both.

He felt her pleasure as it crested, a tidal wave of sensation that crashed through the bond just as her body convulsed around him, her inner muscles clenching him like a vise. The intensity of her climax shattered his own restraint. With one final, deep thrust, he spilled into her, his release roaring through him with a violence that made his vision whiten at the edges.

A ragged groan tore from his throat. "My perfect mate."

He slumped against her, his forehead resting on her shoulder, their harsh breaths mingling in the steamy bathroom air. For long moments, there was only the pounding of his heart and the feel of her arms wrapping around him, holding him as tightly as he held her.

Then, as the euphoria receded, she moved. She pushed him back, sliding off the sink, and she wouldn't meet his eyes as she gathered her discarded clothes from the floor.

"Amara?" His voice was rough.

"I… I need a minute."

She clutched the bundle of silk and lace to her chest, a flush still high on her cheeks, but her expression had shuttered. Before he could say another word—before he could ask her to stay, to talk, to just let him hold her—she was through the bathroom door, disappearing into his bedroom.

He stood there, naked and suddenly cold in the spacious bathroom. The sound of his outer chamber door opening and closing echoed like a verdict.

What's wrong?

The question echoed in the sudden, hollow silence. He'd thought… he'd imagined that after claiming his mate, everything would slot into place. The bond would solidify, she would understand, the world would make sense. Instead, he felt like he'd just thrown a stone into a still pond and was now watching the ripples spread in unpredictable, chaotic directions.

With a grimace, he moved toward his expansive walk-in closet, and he dressed mechanically—dark trousers, a simple black shirt, ignoring the formal jackets that spoke of his power. In the mirror, the man who looked back was unfamiliar. His hair was disheveled from her hands. His eyes held a dazed light he'd never seen before. There was a fresh mark on his neck from where she'd clung to him. He looked like a man who'd fallen head over heels and had the ground knocked out from under him in the same breath.

His Alpha instincts roared to pursue, to corner her and demand an explanation, to reassure her and chase the fear from her eyes. But the man who loved her—and he did, he realized with a sudden clarity—knew that would be the worst possible move. She needed to process, to think, to regain her equilibrium on her own terms. But he couldn't just stand here. He needed perspective. He needed someone who understood both him and the complicated, brilliant woman now hiding somewhere in his estate.

He needed to find Vessa.

ELEVEN

AMARA

Amara clutched her bundle of silk and lace against her chest like armor, her bare feet silent against the polished floor as she fled down the corridor. Her heart hammered a rhythm that seemed to echo off the towering walls of Raxen's estate, each beat a reminder of what had just transpired in his bathroom. The cool air against her naked skin raised goosebumps along her arms, but the heat flooding her body from their encounter burned far hotter than any chill.

Thank goodness no one's in the hallway.

The thought of running into Vessa or Jalen—or worse, one of the visiting Alphas—while racing through the estate in nothing but her dignity made her stomach clench with mortification. She quickened her pace, her long legs carrying her swiftly toward the sanctuary of her guest room.

The ornate door handle turned beneath her trembling fingers, and she slipped inside, pressing her back against the solid wood as she finally allowed herself to breathe. The guest room stretched before her in all its alien elegance—soaring ceilings, rich fabrics in jewel tones, and windows that offered breathtaking views of Solaryn's purple savanna. Yesterday, this space had felt like a palace. Now it felt like a hiding place.

I just had sex with the Alpha of Solaryn. On his bathroom sink. Like some kind of…

She couldn't even finish the thought. Professional mediators didn't throw themselves at their clients. They certainly didn't abandon every principle of workplace boundaries the moment a powerful man touched their face and promised to wait for them.

But something about the moment after she'd tended his wounds—after he'd saved her life from that rogue lion, after he'd admitted he would always protect her, after he'd sworn he wouldn't rush their mate bond and would wait as long as it took—had shattered every defense she'd spent months carefully constructing. The raw honesty in his blue eyes, the gentle way he'd stroked her cheek, and the absolute certainty in his voice when he'd said he was hers made her get lost in the possibility of them. And she'd surrendered to whatever was building between them like a woman drowning who'd finally found air.