utter a word. He’d never kissed anyone for reasons other than base need or being hired. None of that prepared him for the way Mallory responded to him—or how he responded to her. His body burned like something had pierced his veins, and it took more effort than he’d ever known not to let their first kiss become the first night with their bodies entangled.
After several wonderful moments, Kaleb pulled back abruptly. They were both breathing heavily, and her eyes were wide with a mix of longing and shock.
She looked as startled as he felt. The difference between them was that he knew what that sensation meant. Mallory was pack, his in a way that only Zevi had ever been. She belonged in his life, in his home, but how could he say that to a daimon who thought she was human? Marchosias was a cur, but a lot of daimons were curs. Kaleb had bedded some, killed others, but he’d only ever felt the fierce need to protect one other cur.
“You’re . . . not what I was expecting,” he said. Nothing he’d ever experienced came near the wash of heat that felt like it would burn them both alive.
She started trembling.
He stared at her, trying to find words to explain, to help them both understand, but there were none that he could share without telling her what he was and what she was. He wasn’t sure either of them was ready for that. He slid his hands up and down her arms to quell her chills and to have an excuse to keep touching her. “I’m sorry.”
“For kissing me?” she asked.
“No,” Kaleb said quietly. “I’m sorry I didn’t do that the moment I met you.”
Mallory took several steps backward, out of his reach. “I don’t understand, but I think that maybe you should . . .”
“Kiss you again?” Kaleb walked toward her, and she continued to back up so that she stayed just out of reach.
She trembled violently, and he wondered if the spells that were wrapped on her were being loosened by their kisses. He wasn’t having that reaction. He wanted to pull her to him and calm her, but she was wide-eyed with fear. That he did recognize. The first time he’d felt the pack connection, he rebelled. Then, he’d been unprepared for the urgent need to be near anyone, to protect them at any cost.
He watched Mallory force herself to try to be calm. Tentatively, she laughed and said, “That seemed w—”
“Perfect,” he interrupted.
She smiled. “I was going to say weird.” “Perfect,” he repeated.
He reached out toward her, and this time, she stepped closer again. He knew how she was feeling, and even if he couldn’t explain it all, he did know how to help. He remembered it, that feeling like discovering a wound inside that he hadn’t even known existed. The only way to ease the pain inside was to be closer to pack.
“I should have kissed you sooner, Mallory.” Kaleb put his hands on her shoulders, slid them down her arms, and then settled them on her hips. “So many answers are clear now.”
“Answers to what?” She breathed more than spoke the question.
“I’ll go wherever you go,” he promised.
“Because of one kiss?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “And because of what that kiss means. We belong together. You know it. Somewhere inside, you know it. Even though the words sound crazy, you know they’re true.”
She didn’t reply, but she melted into his embrace. It was an answer without words, but he needed the words. They were pack . She was meant to be in his life, and now that he knew it, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her. It was different, not more, but unique from the bond he shared with Zevi, and he wondered briefly if every packmate would feel different to him.
“M ALLORY ?” K ALEB PROMPTED .
She looked into his eyes, wishing she could tell him something, anything, that would make this be something more than one fabulous—but fleeting—surprise. She couldn’t. Any words she had were ones she couldn’t speak. My father is a witch. Daimons are real.
After several wonderful moments, Kaleb pulled back abruptly. They were both breathing heavily, and her eyes were wide with a mix of longing and shock.
She looked as startled as he felt. The difference between them was that he knew what that sensation meant. Mallory was pack, his in a way that only Zevi had ever been. She belonged in his life, in his home, but how could he say that to a daimon who thought she was human? Marchosias was a cur, but a lot of daimons were curs. Kaleb had bedded some, killed others, but he’d only ever felt the fierce need to protect one other cur.
“You’re . . . not what I was expecting,” he said. Nothing he’d ever experienced came near the wash of heat that felt like it would burn them both alive.
She started trembling.
He stared at her, trying to find words to explain, to help them both understand, but there were none that he could share without telling her what he was and what she was. He wasn’t sure either of them was ready for that. He slid his hands up and down her arms to quell her chills and to have an excuse to keep touching her. “I’m sorry.”
“For kissing me?” she asked.
“No,” Kaleb said quietly. “I’m sorry I didn’t do that the moment I met you.”
Mallory took several steps backward, out of his reach. “I don’t understand, but I think that maybe you should . . .”
“Kiss you again?” Kaleb walked toward her, and she continued to back up so that she stayed just out of reach.
She trembled violently, and he wondered if the spells that were wrapped on her were being loosened by their kisses. He wasn’t having that reaction. He wanted to pull her to him and calm her, but she was wide-eyed with fear. That he did recognize. The first time he’d felt the pack connection, he rebelled. Then, he’d been unprepared for the urgent need to be near anyone, to protect them at any cost.
He watched Mallory force herself to try to be calm. Tentatively, she laughed and said, “That seemed w—”
“Perfect,” he interrupted.
She smiled. “I was going to say weird.” “Perfect,” he repeated.
He reached out toward her, and this time, she stepped closer again. He knew how she was feeling, and even if he couldn’t explain it all, he did know how to help. He remembered it, that feeling like discovering a wound inside that he hadn’t even known existed. The only way to ease the pain inside was to be closer to pack.
“I should have kissed you sooner, Mallory.” Kaleb put his hands on her shoulders, slid them down her arms, and then settled them on her hips. “So many answers are clear now.”
“Answers to what?” She breathed more than spoke the question.
“I’ll go wherever you go,” he promised.
“Because of one kiss?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “And because of what that kiss means. We belong together. You know it. Somewhere inside, you know it. Even though the words sound crazy, you know they’re true.”
She didn’t reply, but she melted into his embrace. It was an answer without words, but he needed the words. They were pack . She was meant to be in his life, and now that he knew it, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her. It was different, not more, but unique from the bond he shared with Zevi, and he wondered briefly if every packmate would feel different to him.
“M ALLORY ?” K ALEB PROMPTED .
She looked into his eyes, wishing she could tell him something, anything, that would make this be something more than one fabulous—but fleeting—surprise. She couldn’t. Any words she had were ones she couldn’t speak. My father is a witch. Daimons are real.
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