The woods behind the Virelle estate were a tangle of twilight and wind, trees groaning beneath the weight of the night. Moonlight poured in silver ribbons through the branches, slicing the shadows across the forest floor like blades. Lyra's boots crunched on dry leaves as she moved, faster now, as though the ache in her chest could be outrun.
But Kael was already there.
Leaning against the trunk of a gnarled oak, arms crossed, expression unreadable beneath the half-light. He didn't move. He just watched her approach, that savage stillness in his posture making something primal stir deep in her spine.
"You followed me," she said, breath catching.
"You ran," he replied. "You think I'd let you go alone?"
She stopped a few feet away, the space between them taut with unspoken things. The forest hummed. Crickets sang. Somewhere, an owl called into the dark.
"I needed air," she said, folding her arms around herself. "After… everything."
Kael stepped forward. Slowly. Controlled.
"You needed to breathe," he murmured, "but all you're doing is holding it in."
His voice was low and dangerous in that way that made her stomach twist. The way it always did when he stopped hiding.
Lyra's throat worked. "You think you know me that well?"
"I don't think," Kael said, reaching out. His fingers caught a loose strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. "I feel it. Every time you look at me, you look like you want to run and touch me at the same time. You think I don't feel that, too?"
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Kael stepped even closer. "You told me I'm dangerous. But so are you."
She tried to laugh it off. "Please."
He dipped his head, his mouth brushing her ear. "You want me to stop?"
Her breath hitched. "No."
And that was all it took.
Kael crushed her mouth with his, the kiss searing and wild, like fire through bone. His hands fisted in her coat, dragging her flush against his body. She gasped into him, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling hard.
The world fell away. There was only Kael—his scent, his hunger, the low growl vibrating from his throat like a warning and a promise. He tasted like sin and winter storms, like things she was never meant to touch but couldn't stop craving.
They stumbled against the tree trunk. Bark scraped her back as his mouth left a trail along her jaw, her neck, and down the hollow of her throat. His teeth grazed her skin—not enough to break it, but enough to make her whimper.
"You smell like moonlight," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Like you were made to be chased."
Lyra gasped as his hands roamed her sides, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts, slow, teasing.
Her voice trembled. "And caught?"
He met her gaze, eyes glowing faintly in the dark. "No. Worshipped."
She pulled his mouth back to hers, dragging him down, her fingers threading beneath his shirt to feel hot, bare skin. He shuddered under her touch, and something in her burned brighter—bolder. She bit his lip, and he groaned, a sound so raw it vibrated through her spine.
Kael moved lower, lips trailing fire along her collarbone, tongue flicking across sensitive skin. He lifted her with ease, pressing her back to the tree as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her breath catching when she felt the hard line of him against her.
"Tell me to stop," he growled against her throat.
"Don't," she whispered. "Don't you dare."
Their mouths met again, desperate now. She tugged his shirt over his head, fingers exploring the hard planes of his chest, the ridges of scars across his ribs—silent stories of pain and survival.
Kael paused just long enough to look at her.
"You're not scared of me," he said softly, almost surprised.
"No," she murmured, brushing her lips across his jaw. "I'm scared of wanting you this much."
He let out a low laugh, almost bitter. "Then we're both fucked."
Their bodies moved in sync, every touch and grind and sigh laced with unbearable need. She was drowning in him, in the way he touched her like she was breakable and sacred, then kissed her like he wanted to ruin her.
Her head tilted back as he sucked a bruise into her throat. "Gods, Kael…"
He groaned, his voice ragged. "I want you. All of you."
"Then take me."
The words left her lips before she could stop them, and the way Kael looked at her—like she'd handed him her soul—made her stomach knot.
He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers.
"Not here," he said, voice thick. "Not like this."
She blinked, disoriented. "What?"
Kael's hands slid down her thighs, grounding her as he gently set her back on her feet.
"You deserve better than a tree and desperation."
She stared up at him, lips swollen, heart galloping. "So what now?"
His smile was wolfish, all teeth and tension. "Now we walk back. Slowly. Because if I keep touching you, I'm not going to stop."
She smirked. "Coward."
Kael leaned close, brushing his lips across hers. "Say that again when you're in my bed."
Her knees buckled a little.
But she straightened, biting her bottom lip as they started back through the forest, the heat between them still crackling like a fire about to consume everything in its path.
And Lyra knew—tonight had changed everything.
They weren't circling anymore.
They were colliding.