Kael's POV
She had nowhere left to run. Pressed into the corner, trembling, she looked as if she were fighting not only me but the pull of my scent itself.
"Eira," I murmured again, kneeling before her. My hand reached for her, but she flinched away, shrugging off my touch as though my fingers would stain her.
"Don't…" she warned, her voice ragged.
I drew a slow breath, forcing myself to stay calm. This time I caught her hand and didn't let go. With one firm pull, I brought her against me. Her small, frail body collided with my chest, and I held her steady, refusing to let her slip away.
That was all it took. My touch, my scent, the closeness she had tried so hard to escape—this was what she needed most, even if she hated herself for needing it.
Her body softened against mine. She buried her face against my neck, inhaling me, clutching my shirt with desperate fingers. Her nails dug into my skin, sharp and sweet, a pain that grounded me even as it inflamed the beast inside me.
