Kylar felt like he was falling.

  THUMP

  He laid there feeling the grass under his hands. Waking in the meadow like this annoyed him. Wind that smelled like clover and sun and the kind of peace Carlbrin didn’t know how to manufacture. He blinked once, twice, and then his gaze snapped across the dreamscape with the urgency of a man searching for a single lit window in a dark city.

  “Kairi?”

  She was already there, sitting near the hill as if she’d claimed it as her throne. A strand of hair had slipped loose over her shoulder, and she was twirling it around her finger with a thoughtful, almost smug calm watching him. She probably watched him materialize and flop in the grass.

  Kylar was on his feet in an instant.

  He crossed the meadow like the ground owed him passage, and when he reached her, he didn’t bother with dignity. He scooped her up, spun her once, and pulled her into his chest like he could make the world understand with force alone: mine, safe, here.

  Kairi squeaked, then laughed, breathless. “Kylar!”

  He buried his face in her hair and inhaled like it was medicine. “We’re in Carlbrin,” he muttered, as if saying it might make it stay true.

  “We are,” she said, voice warm with amusement. “And you are being absurd.”

  “I’m being—” He pulled back just enough to look offended. “I’m being relieved.”

  “You’re being dramatic,” she corrected, poking his chest.

  Kylar huffed and carried her up the hill anyway as if her opinions weighed nothing.

  “Stop relocating me,” she laughed.

  “I’m improving our view,” he muttered.

  “You’re kidnapping me.”

  “I’m rescuing you from flat ground.” He grumbled.

  She laughed harder, and Kylar felt something in him uncoil, tension sliding away as if her laughter was all he needed right then. He tucked her closer, letting her swat at his chest playfully as he looked for a nice spot to sit. He paced around for a moment as she just watched him amused.

  “You’re like a cat preparing to sit” She mused.

  He stopped then and looked at her. “A cat?”

  She smirked and nodded. “A very pretty kitty”

  He finally decided a spot and sat down and cradled against him. For a few heartbeats, he just held her. No palace. No eyes. No paper. Just the quiet hum of the dreamscape around them.

  Kairi looked up at him, a teasing glint in her eyes. “Okay,” she said. “You can stop clinging now.”

  Kylar tightened his arms around her on principle. “No.”

  She rolled her eyes and settled anyway, her head resting against his shoulder. “Fine. Keep clinging. But if you suffocate me, I’m haunting you.”

  “I’d haunt you first,” he muttered.

  “That’s not how haunting works.”

  “It is for me.”

  Kairi laughed, and then her expression shifted into something more thoughtful, like she was choosing her words carefully.

  “So,” she said, “Darius feels awkward sleeping in my rooms.”

  Kylar’s brows jumped. “Good.”

  Kairi elbowed him lightly. “Kylar.”

  “He should feel awkward,” Kylar insisted, unrepentant. “It means he still has shame.”

  Kairi tilted her head back to look at him. “He’s guarding me.”

  “I know,” Kylar said, softer. Then, because he couldn’t resist, “He can guard you awkwardly.”

  She snorted, then sighed and tucked herself closer, voice easing into a quieter truth. “He keeps trying to make himself small in there. Like if he takes up less space, he won’t… bother me.”

  Kylar’s mouth tightened. “He’s a good man.”

  “He is,” Kairi agreed. “He’s also very tall. It’s not working.”

  That earned Kylar a low chuckle, and Kairi smiled like she’d won something.

  He rested his forehead against her crown. “He will get use to it. He has never been a personal guard before. I may have thrown him into deep water with the hope he can swim in it.” He whispered into her hair.

  Then she grew quiet again, gaze drifting out over the meadow like she could see Carlbrin from here if she concentrated hard enough.

  “The palace is…” She hesitated. “It’s beautiful. But it feels like it watches you.”

  Kylar’s arms tightened without thinking.

  Kairi continued, voice honest and steady. “I keep thinking about who is smiling because they’re polite, and who is smiling because they want something. I keep thinking about the servants’ eyes. The way they stopped when I walked in.” She swallowed. “And tomorrow…”

  “The temple.” Kylar finished.

  Kairi nodded. Her fingers traced the edge of his sleeve, a small grounding motion. “I’m nervous,” she admitted. “Not because I don’t want the training. I do. But because… it’s the Phoenix Temple. And I don’t know what they’re going to demand of me.” Her mouth twisted. “Or what they’ll demand of you.”

  Kylar stared out across the meadow and focused on her hand, the one gently tracing his sleeve and then rubbing small circles on his knuckles.

  “I’m going with you,” he said quietly.

  Kairi blinked and looked up at him. “You… are?”

  “Yes.” He held her gaze.

  Her eyes searched his face like she was checking if he meant it or if it was another one of his instinctive, protective declarations that he’d regret in the morning.

  “Do you really mean that?” she asked softly.

  Kylar’s expression didn’t change. “Yes.”

  He hesitated only long enough for the next words to land like an anchor.

  “Ryder agreed.”

  Kairi’s brows rose. “Ryder did?”

  Kylar gave a short, satisfied hum. “He did. And if I am to be your mate,” he added, muttering like the word tasted weird in his mouth too, “I might as well see what all they will demand of your mate.”

  Kairi’s eyes went wide for half a second. Then she smacked him lightly on the chest.

  “Do not call yourself my mate,” she scolded. “That sounds weird.”

  Kylar blinked at her, genuinely offended now. “It’s Tearian.”

  “It makes it sound like we are animals,” she shot back, laughing despite herself. “Use something normal.”

  Kylar’s mouth pulled into a stubborn line. “Normal is overrated.”

  Kairi lifted her head, eyes bright with mischief. “Beloved,” she suggested, like she was testing the word on her tongue. “Betrothed. Fiancé.”

  Kylar made a face at the last one. “That one is worse.” He teased.

  Kairi grinned, wicked and soft all at once. “Or…” She paused, letting it hang. Then she smiled, small and certain. “Husband.”

  Kylar went still. For a heartbeat, the entire meadow felt like it held its breath with him. He let himself imagine it for a moment. Her husband. A small smile spread and he forced his face to be neutral again. Then he lowered his head and pressed his forehead to hers, eyes closing as if the word had found a place inside him that nothing else could reach.

  “Don’t say things like that,” he muttered, voice rough.

  Kairi’s grin turned gentler. “Why?”

  “Because I’ll start believing them,” he whispered.

  She cupped his face with both hands, thumbs brushing his cheekbones. “Good,” she said simply. “Believe it.”

  Kylar exhaled a shaky, quiet laugh and tightened his arms around her again, pulling her back into the safest place he knew.

  “Absurd,” Kairi murmured, but she sounded like she didn’t mind it at all.

  Kylar grumbled into her hair, satisfied. “Let me.” He nuzzled into her hair, content, then mumbled with maddening casualness, “Though… if I am your mate, you are my mate.”

  Kairi made a small sound of agreement, half-hum, half-laugh.

  Kylar’s mouth curved.

  “And we could mate.”

  Kairi jerked her head up so fast she nearly headbutted him. “Kylar!”

  He shrugged, smug as sin, like he’d just solved a complicated equation. “I would like mating with you.”

  Kairi stared at him for a heartbeat, then broke into laughter so suddenly it shook her shoulders. She poked his chest. “Stop.”

  Kylar caught her finger, kissed the knuckle like he was being very polite about being very improper, then leaned in and stole a kiss from her mouth, soft and sure.

  When he pulled back, his eyes were bright with that wicked, boyish spark she kept unlocking in him.

  “Mate with me?” he asked, entirely too earnest for how outrageous he was being.

  Kairi made an offended noise that turned into another laugh, and then she shoved him, flat-palmed and decisive, sending him back into the grass with a dramatic flop.

  Kylar blinked up at the sky like the meadow itself had betrayed him.

  Kairi hovered over him, hair falling forward, eyes narrowed in mock severity. “Kylar… please. Let’s use beloved or something else.”

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  Kylar looked at her for a long, solemn moment, like he was deeply considering the politics of language.

  Then he grinned, unrepentant.

  “Fine,” he said, reaching up to tug her gently down by the waist. “Beloved.”

  Kairi relaxed a fraction.

  Kylar kissed her again, slow, warm, and annoyingly sweet.

  When he pulled back, his voice dropped into a satisfied murmur against her lips.

  “My beloved… mate.”

  “KYLAR.”

  His laughter vanished into the grass as she pushed his face into it.

  She looked down at him, taking in the smug little curve of his mouth like it was a personal insult to dignity everywhere as his face was still pressed into the ground, his eyes were still looking at her with glee.

  “You are very proud of this, aren’t you?” Kairi asked, eyes narrowed, but laughter already tugging at her.

  Kylar nodded once, entirely unapologetic.

  Then he hooked an arm around her and pulled her snug against him as if the conversation had been a formal decree and he’d just enforced it. Kairi let out a surprised laugh and landed half on his chest, half on the grass, hair spilling over his shoulder.

  “You’re impossible,” she muttered.

  Kylar made a satisfied sound that could only be translated as yes, and?

  Kairi shifted, trying to settle more comfortably without giving him the satisfaction of seeing her fuss. The meadow grass tickled her knees. The slope angled just enough that she had to brace a hand near his shoulder. And when she adjusted again, she felt the unmistakable way his body reacted to having her pressed close.

  Her breath hitched, and her mouth quirked.

  “All this talking about mates has you excited,” she whispered, keeping her tone teasing even as her cheeks warmed.

  Kylar’s smugness didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened into something softer and more intent. He reached up, fingers gentle, and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. The touch was unhurried, reverent in a way that always made her heart stutter. His knuckles brushed her cheek, warm against her skin.

  “My offer still stands,” he replied softly.

  Kairi’s eyes widened a fraction, then narrowed again as she tried to look stern and failed completely.

  “Your offer,” she echoed, voice hovering somewhere between outrage and laughter.

  Kylar’s thumb lingered at her jaw as if he couldn’t help himself. “Mm-hmm.”

  Kairi pressed a hand to his chest, not pushing him away this time, just creating the smallest space to breathe. “Kylar,” she warned, but it was the gentlest warning she’d ever given.

  He only looked at her, steady and unshaken, as if the whole world could argue and he would still be here, holding her like she was the only truth that mattered.

  “Beloved,” he murmured, just to test the word on his tongue again. “Mate.”

  Kairi groaned and hid her face against his shoulder for half a second, shaking with quiet laughter.

  “I take it back,” she muttered. “You can’t have any titles.”

  Kylar’s lips brushed her temple. “Too late,” he said, voice warm with triumph. “You gave me ‘husband.’ I’m keeping it.”

  Kairi lifted her head to glare at him properly.

  Kylar’s eyes sparkled. “Would you like to mate with me?”

  Kairi’s expression softened, and for once she didn’t swat him for being impossible.

  Instead, she leaned in. Her kiss was slow at first, then sharper, playful. She nipped his bottom lip just enough to make him inhale like he hadn’t planned on needing air tonight.

  “I accept your offer,” she whispered against his mouth, voice low and delighted. “No interruptions this time.”

  Kylar’s eyes fluttered shut, relief and hunger tangling together in a way that made his next words come out rough.

  “Mm,” he murmured against her lips, “no watches to wake me.”

  Kairi laughed softly, breath spilling warm over his cheek. “Good.”

  His hands found her, firm and careful, pulling her closer like he was making a claim the meadow itself couldn’t argue with. Kairi made a small sound, half laugh, half gasp, when he shifted them, rolling them in the grass until she was beneath him and he was braced over her, looking down like he couldn’t believe he’d been given this.

  “You’re still being absurd,” she whispered.

  Kylar’s smile turned wicked. “You like it.”

  She opened her mouth to deny it, and he stole the words with a kiss.

  Kylar kissed her like he’d been holding back all day. Like every corridor and every bow and every polite distance had been something he’d endured just to get here. His mouth found the places that always made her breath catch, the familiar trail that made her fingers clutch at his shoulders.

  Kairi arched into him, eyes closing, laughter gone now, replaced by that soft, helpless honesty her body never managed to hide from him.

  Kylar paused just long enough to look at her, pupils dark, expression intense in a way that made her chest tighten.

  “You sure?” he asked, quieter suddenly.

  Kairi’s hands slid up into his hair, anchoring him there. “Yes,” she whispered. “You wanted this, don’t back out now.”

  His forehead tipped to hers, and for a heartbeat he just breathed her in, like the word had settled something fierce inside him.

  Then he kissed her again, deeper, and the meadow seemed to tilt with them, the world narrowing down to warmth and skin and the hush of their names.

  Kairi’s fingers tightened at his neck, tugging him closer.

  “Show me,” she whispered, a smile in her voice even as it shook, “what kind of mate you are.”

  Kylar’s answering sound was pure satisfaction, half laugh, half vow. “As you command,” he murmured, as his hands moved first, slow and deliberate, mapping the curve of her waist under her clothes as if committing every inch to memory. Kairi shifted beneath him, impatient already, her fingers fumbling with the ties of his shirt. She tugged it open with a boldness that made his breath hitch, her palms sliding over the warm planes of his chest, tracing the lines of muscle and scars that told stories she wanted to learn by heart.

  Kylar let her explore, his own touch gentle, almost reverent, as he peeled away her layers. The cool meadow air kissed her skin as he bared her shoulders, her collarbone, pressing soft kisses there like offerings. "Beautiful," he whispered against her throat, voice rough with awe, and Kairi felt a shiver race through her, not from the chill, but from the way he said it, like a truth he'd been guarding.

  She pulled him down for another kiss, bolder now, her teeth grazing his lip as her hands wandered lower, finding the fastening of his trousers. Kylar groaned softly into her mouth, his body tensing with anticipation, but he caught her wrist gently, guiding her hand away for a moment. "Slow," he murmured, eyes meeting hers with that steady intensity. "We have time. Let me..."

  Kairi arched a brow, playful challenge in her gaze, but she relented, letting him take the lead. His fingers traced down her sides, light as wind over grass, until he reached the hem of her skirt. He pushed it up slowly, exposing her thighs to the night air, his touch feather-light along her inner thigh, teasing higher until his fingers traced along her. When her breath caught, he paid more attention, rubbing small circles there.

  "Kylar," she breathed, half plea, half demand. Her hands clutched at the grass beside her, grounding herself as his fingers finally found her center, stroking with exquisite care. He watched her face, learning every flicker of pleasure, every soft sound she made, adjusting his rhythm to what made her breath quicken. Kairi bit her lip, bold enough to rock against his hand, chasing the building heat, but Kylar was gentle, drawing it out, circling and pressing until she was trembling, her nails digging into his shoulders. The slight pain was enough for him to begin sliding his fingers into her. When she gasped he stole her mouth slipping his tongue around her own and enjoy each gasp she tried to take. The way her hips arched against his hand now.

  When she shattered, it was with a cry muffled against his neck, waves of release crashing through her. Kylar held her through it, murmuring soft words in her ear. “That’s my girl.”

  She came down slowly, chest heaving, and looked up at him with eyes dark and satisfied. "Your turn," she whispered, a wicked smile curving her lips. Before he could protest or gentle her again, Kairi pushed him onto his back with surprising strength, straddling his hips. The grass cushioned them, and she leaned down, kissing a trail from his jaw to his chest, when she reached lower, fingers brushing the fastening of his trousers, Kylar inhaled sharply, hips twitching. She looked up at him, bright eyes with mischief and want, already starting to ease the fabric aside.

  He caught her wrist, gentle, not stopping, just slowing. His thumb stroked over her pulse point once, twice.

  “Wait,” he murmured, voice rougher than usual. “Maybe… next time.”

  Kairi tilted her head, brow furrowing in playful confusion. “Next time?”

  Kylar swallowed, gaze dropping to her mouth, then back to her eyes. He looked almost shy for a heartbeat, something raw flickering behind the usual steadiness.

  “I want that,” he admitted quietly. “Gods, I want that. But right now…” He exhaled, shaky. “This is already more than I ever thought I’d have. You let me touch you. Let me see you like this. Letting me… mate with you.” The word came out softer on the second try, almost reverent. “That’s enough. More than enough. I don’t need anything else tonight.”

  Kairi studied him for a long moment, the teasing light in her eyes softening into something warmer, understanding.

  “I want to pleasure you too,” she said simply, honest. Her fingers flexed under his hold, not pulling away, just resting there. “I want to make you feel good the way you made me feel good.”

  Kylar’s chest rose on a rough breath. He sat up pulling her against him, pressing his forehead to hers again, eyes closed like he was steadying himself against the weight of her words.

  “You already do,” he whispered. “Every time you look at me like that. Every time you laugh. Every time you say my name instead of pushing me away.” He opened his eyes, searching hers. “Let me have this part tonight. Let me take care of you. Please.”

  Kairi’s lips curved, small, tender, a little mischievous still.

  “Fine,” she murmured. “But next time I get my turn.”

  “Deal,” he said instantly, a faint, relieved smile breaking through. “Later,” he murmured, voice thick. “I promise.”

  He guided her hand to rest over his heart, letting her feel how hard it hammered for her, then shifted them so she was cradled against his chest while his free hand slipped back between her thighs, coaxing her gently toward another peak. She bit her lip as he wrapped an arm around her cupping her breast and stealing her lips again as he worked his fingers in her, stretching her a little till she opened her legs wider for him. “You like that?” He breathed against her lips. Stroking her inner walls finding the spots that made her body jerk.

  Only when she was trembling again, whispering pleas against his throat, did he ease himself free of his trousers. He set her back against the grass as he positioned himself carefully, pausing at her entrance, eyes locked on hers.

  “Still yes?” he asked, voice raw.

  “Yes,” she breathed, legs wrapping around him in answer.

  He sank into her slowly, both of them gasping at the stretch, the heat, the impossible rightness. Kylar held still for a long moment, forehead pressed to hers, letting her adjust, letting himself feel every inch of her around him the sensation overwhelming.

  Then he started to move, slow, deep rolls of his hips that made her gasp his name. She met him, bold and unashamed, hands clutching his back, urging him closer, deeper. They found a rhythm together, unhurried, intimate, every slide drawing soft moans and whispered affirmations. Her legs wrapping around his waist pulling him closer, deeper.

  The dream let them linger, chasing that shared edge until Kairi clenched around him with a trembling cry that pulled him over with her. He spilled inside her with a rough, broken groan of pleasure, face buried in her neck, arms locking around her like he could keep the moment forever if he just held tight enough.

  They came back to themselves slowly, as if the meadow had to stitch them together again after letting them fall apart.

  Kylar lay on his back in the grass, one arm hooked around Kairi’s waist like a restraint he didn’t intend to loosen. Kairi was draped over him, warm and boneless, cheek pressed to his chest where his heartbeat still hadn’t quite remembered how to be calm.

  For a long while they only breathed. The night air was cool enough to prickle against her skin, but Kylar’s body was heat and shelter. His fingers traced idle, protective lines along her back, more soothing than searching, as if he was counting proof she was here.

  Kairi hummed softly, nose brushing his skin. “We shouldn’t have waited so long,” she murmured, the words muffled against him, honest in that sleepy, aftermath way that made everything feel dangerously true.

  Kylar’s chest rose under her with a quiet laugh that didn’t quite make it more than a huff of air. “Maybe,” he muttered.

  Then his voice lowered, rougher around the edges, like he was admitting something he’d carried for years and didn’t know where to put down.

  “I didn’t want to take what I couldn’t protect,” he said.

  Kairi went still, just a fraction. She lifted her head enough to look at him, eyes soft.

  Kylar swallowed, gaze drifting up at the wide, open sky like it was easier to confess to the stars than to her face.

  “In there,” he said quietly, meaning Carlbrin without naming it, “everything has teeth. Every smile. Every silence.” His hand tightened at her waist, not possessive, just… afraid of empty space. “But here…”

  He exhaled, and the breath sounded like relief.

  “Here I feel safe,” Kylar admitted.

  The words landed heavy in her soul. Kairi’s expression changed in a way that made his throat tighten. She didn’t tease. She didn’t deflect. She simply bent and pressed a kiss to his collarbone, then another, then rested her cheek back against him as if she’d decided this was the truest place to be.

  “You’re safe with me,” she whispered, like returning a vow.

  Kylar’s eyes closed. His fingers threaded through her hair, slow and reverent.

  After a moment he cleared his throat, attempting to drag the mood back from the edge of too tender, too exposed.

  “I’m also,” he muttered, “up for more… mating every night.”

  Kairi’s shoulders shook with a low laugh against his skin. “Every night?”

  Kylar opened one eye, catching her with the faintest smugness, like he was testing how much boldness the dreamscape would allow. “Every night,” he repeated solemnly, as if announcing policy.

  Kairi lifted her head, hair falling over her shoulder, eyes bright with amusement and warmth. “Is that a promise?”

  Kylar’s mouth twitched. He brushed his thumb along her cheek, the gesture unexpectedly gentle for a man trying to be smug.

  “It’s a vow,” he murmured.

  Kairi’s smile turned slow and wicked. “Careful, Kylar. If you start making vows in here, I might hold you to them out there.”

  Kylar’s gaze softened, something fierce and tender mixing in his eyes. He pulled her closer until her laughter faded into a quiet sigh.

  “Good,” he whispered. “I want you there too.”