The vines around them seemed to pulse in time with their hearts, glowing faintly as if the Sanctum itself dared not interrupt what was unfolding. Samantha's breath hitched as Callum's hands slid down her back, anchoring her to him as though he feared she might vanish like a dream.
His lips left hers only to trail fire along her jaw, down the column of her neck, each kiss a reclaiming. Her head tipped back, surrendering not from weakness but from the knowledge that this—this tether between them—was stronger than any spell she could cast.
"You don't know what you're doing to me," he growled against her throat, his voice dark silk fraying at the edges.
"Yes," she whispered, threading her fingers through his hair. "I do. I remember everything, Callum. Even if you don't."
