Seraphina's POV
His eyes burned with a hunger that made my breath catch. I knew the drug had taken hold, twisting his restraint into raw desire. And yet, instead of fear, I felt a strange calm.
He was my mate, my husband. In these past few days, the way he had taken care of me, been so gentle with me, so tender, so protective—I knew I liked him.
It wasn't love, the kind sung about in stories or movies, not yet, but I was on my way there. If right now he needed me, I was ready to become his.
A blush rose hot against my cheeks as I stepped closer. Suddenly, his hand shot out, gripping my wrist. With a sharp tug, I stumbled forward, landing against him.
He shifted me quickly, positioning me so my back was pressed against his bare chest, his arms wrapped around me. His breath grazed my neck, rough and uneven, as he buried his face against my skin, inhaling me like I was the only air he needed.
