33. Want

Seff *did* believe in soulmates. Her parents were. She’d seen plenty of other werewolf couples so in love that it made her think there really were benevolent gods intent only on filling lives with the emotion, the feeling, to make the world even just a little wholesome.
Maybe Seff associated the harems with the opposites of all the goodness because breeding with strangers lacked love—and not just the eros kind. She didn’t think the Alphas were capable of any love beyond the lust of bodies.
But if Kiran had a soulmate…then there was evidence that he had loved—true, honest, from-the-heart *love*. That he was capable of it.
Soulmates could also be very wrong for each other. *Toxic* love.
Either good or bad, Seff felt something in her core, as undeniable as knowing her hair was white and always would be. This feeling…there was little harm in exploring it. If she sensed harm, then it was over. No more chances for Kiran if he hurt her or Allium. And if it was just a game he made up, maybe she could set up her own.
“How do you tell if you’re soulbound to someone?” Seff whispered. He was leaning toward her, and she found herself leaning too. She smelled his scent—musky, like an Alpha, and the apples and warmth…and familiarity. A smell that told her, *I know you. I’ve known you forever.*
There was no sign of cockiness. There was only a magnetizing seriousness that made Seff feel like she was about to tip over some edge that she couldn’t bring herself up from. Somehow…it wasn’t an entirely bad thing.
His eyes were molten gold, mesmerizing in their ethereal beauty. Kiran Cyrus was beautiful and Seff wanted to feel beautiful in his arms.
“Kissing is the first step,” he whispered back. She sensed no dishonesty in it. “But only if you want.”
In the sensible part of her mind, she was impressed by him not simply *taking*. But in the moment, she wasn’t really thinking.
They leaned toward each other just a little more, then they closed their eyes, then they kissed.
The contact was static, and Seff jerked back with her fingers to her lips, surprised.
There—the spark of familiarity again. What was it? Why in the world would the Sun “god” be *familiar* to her?
One thing was for certain, against her better judgment, was that Seff wanted to kiss him again.
Kiran’s eyelids fluttered as if trying to stay asleep to keep a dream playing in his mind—it was bliss, an experience he wanted to savor. He wanted to savor the taste of *her*.
Seff, like all wolves preferred meat. But when her lips touched Kiran’s, she didn’t mind the sweetness of golden apples.
She took the Alpha’s stubbled face between her hands and kissed him. And he was nothing like she feared—slow, patient, making an effort to please Seff’s eager tongue. Rather, it was effortless, as if they’d done it dozens of times. His fingers gently knotted in her hair, expertly undoing her braid. It felt so good—so good Seff wanted to hate it, hate him, for being a piece-of-shit werewolf, but…but he was satisfying some part of Seff that made her want to deny all the bad things she thought about Kiran Cyrus.
It was *incredibly* toxic. But wrong felt so right.
Seff gave way to his gentle pressing weight. She lay on her back, Kiran hovering over her, hands braced on either side of her head. This kiss was only broken so Kiran could look at her like he never had before, and Seff almost thought he was just someone masquerading as the bloodthirsty Alpha.
His mighty—still clothed—chest rose and fell with steady breaths. His locks of gold hair were freed of its tie and swept across his rich tanned skin. He really could have been some mystical god who embodied perfection itself.
But the look in those pure gold of his eyes…it was so profound that Seff forgot to breathe. She was overcome with the sensation that something was going to happen—that *something* was about to *connect*.
Seff could have sworn Kiran said a different word than her name, but the sound belonged to her, a breathy whisper of wonderment. His body was a weight pressed down on hers, but a comfortable one, offering the sense of security that made all of Seff’s walls crumble. His mouth found hers easily. Seff melted into it and letting her instincts react, her legs rested atop his, trying to entangle them. Kiran purred deep in his throat; Seff wanted to turn wholly liquid.
He deepened the kiss, hotter, wetter, slowly becoming frenzied. Seff’s fingers were in his hair now and Kiran’s body was hard between her outspread legs. She could sense his hands wanted to explore her already half-exposed body. And she let him, gladly.
Chest heaving, Seff watched Kiran sit up to appraise her. One of the silks shifted to bare her right breast. She didn’t scramble to cover it. Kiran leaned forward slowly, a question of *consent* in his eyes; he waited for her breathless agreement to take the nipple between his soft lips.
Seff released a shuddering gasp. It was like a string unpicked from a spool and was beginning to unravel—Kiran was unraveling the string, and *Seff* was the string.
His hand moved the second silk aside to palm her other breast, again so slow and gentle, and Seff’s core tightened.
She knew it would hurt just as always. But she had learned to bear it because pain was not stronger than pleasure.
Kiran drew his shirt off in one smooth motion and buried his face in the juncture of her neck and shoulder, right where her scent gland was. Seff’s nose was nearly pressed to his, so she kissed him there—a little brush of the tongue, a little scrape of the teeth. So he did the same. Teasing? Flirting? Dancing on the edge of that impending *something*?
Each tantalizing nibble made their bodies stiffen as they fought the urge to take the last scraps of clothing off. What? The Alpha of the Sun pack, not shredding his pants the moment he had a chance? No, there was something special about this slow exploration of tongues on skin. It was nothing in-depth—there was plenty left to explore, with plenty of time—but there was a seal that needed to be broken. But what was it to? How could they break it? Did they *want* to?
Seff then thought of Selene and Hawthorn. Terrible timing.
When Kiran kissed her again, however, they were all but forgotten—for the time being.
“Take me,” Seff gasped against his mouth. Gods, where was her inhibition when she needed them most?
She felt him smile, his hands roaming her body skating immediately to the strap of her panties. “Are you sure?” he grumbled. His very voice made Seff’s core blaze.
“Yes.”
Kiran’s finger slipped under the strap. Seff whimpered and bucked her hips. “You’re not in heat, Seff,” Kiran said, and he was no longer smiling.
Seff settled and opened her eyes that had closed in bliss. The gold god was now looking at her with worry, regret, but nothing could extinguish the plain longing.
“It’s okay,” she assured, but he spotlighted her anomaly and the subsequent fear—that he would figure out that she didn’t get heats, therefore less likely to bear pups, therefore faulty goods, therefore…expendable. Killable.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
The jumble of emotions good and negative made a small nervous laugh burst from her lips. “Who *are* you?”
That brought out a brief smile. “Who am I but a slave to your body and soul?”
Seff sobered and in tandem so did Kiran. They were frozen in the time of their own world. “Do you want me?”
“Of course I want you,” he said, almost wounded.
“Are there…conditions to wanting me?” Seff asked quietly, afraid to meet his eyes but doing it anyway.
Kiran cocked his head. “Conditions?”
“Do you only want me for the Contest?”
That was the test. But the root question was *why*. It would always be *why* until Seff was satisfied with the answer—when she knew the truth.
Kiran brushed a strand of her hair off her cheek tenderly. “You want honesty, Seff?” She nodded, not giving herself time to doubt. “At first, yes.” Her heart buoyed, ready to sink. “You kept making me angry,” he said with a too-charming grin before it faded. “But when you yelled at me like no one’s business, I realized you are worth more.”
Seff started to analyze, but he silenced her mind and mouth with another soft kiss, lingering and sweet. “I was out of my mind when I called you to the nursery. For that, I humbly apologize.”
Their gazes searched each other’s, searched for honesty in words and emotions. Could Seff forgive him—for anything? Was he worthy of an apology?
“How can I make it up to you?” Kiran asked with a tinge of desperation as if he feared she would decide him undeserving and shun him further.
His fingers were no longer teasing her panties or palming her breasts but slipping under her ribs to pull her up on top of him as he rolled onto his back. Their faces were still inches apart, but now Seff wanted to rest her cheek on his chest and close her eyes against his thunderous heartbeat.
She clung to her shred of self-control only to finish the conversation. “You want honesty?” she began, making the Alpha snort in amusement at the backfired statement. “Stop using Allium to get back at me—and tell me what you are trying to get back at me *for*.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Scorning me,” he said simply. “No one refused me so heartily as everyone worshipped me.”
Seff felt suddenly coy. It wasn’t a fully satisfying answer, and it didn’t absolve him, but she realized the cards slipped into her hands—she had an *advantage* over him, over his *will*. She smiled a smile that made Kiran Cyrus apprehensive, though he still looked amused as if he wanted to entertain any idea of hers.
It was her turn to brush his hair aside, but not before she felt the need to brush strands into his eyes first with a giddy giggle.
Kiran cursed but it was in good nature, and then he laughed too. Why was it so easy to be around him all of a sudden? She wasn’t afraid to feel the stubble of his face with the backs of her fingers, or kiss the tip of his strong nose like familiar lovers? It was a strangeness like no other. And she also liked his broad hands encompassing her ass.
“You know what I *really* want,” she said to his raised eyebrows, “is to go hunting.”
Those eyebrows knitted. “Hunting? That’s it?”
“Yes,” she insisted with a spark of excitement at the possibility of stretching her limbs. A trapped wolf waiting for the door to open into freedom. “I seldom could back…back home, and with the forest nearby… And I’ve been cooped up.” Seff playfully bounced her palms on his chest. “I have pent-up energy.”
One eyebrow quirked. “Lots of energy, you say?” he purred, giving her backside a squeeze. She squeaked like a pup, much to her surprise. Kiran’s gold eyes gleamed wolfishly. “Well, I can arrange a hunt easily.” He paused. “Who with?”
In this she was honest: “Just you.”
Kiran softened and Seff felt him *melting*. “I’ll follow your lead, Lady Seff.”