Chapter 43

Raven

The sudden press of Neil’s lips against mine felt like a lightning strike, electricity coursing through my body.

For a second, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—I could only feel the searing warmth of Neil’s mouth on mine and the roughness of his grip around my wrists. But just as quickly, the shock wore off, and I pushed him back, sending him staggering away from me and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What the hell was that?” I hissed, my heart pounding in my chest.

He didn’t respond right away—simply lifted his gaze to meet mine.

But his eyes... they weren’t his usual steely blue. They were glowing, fierce and unyielding, like he was a different person—or rather, not a person at all.

I realized that his wolf had surfaced, and he didn’t seem all that keen on hiding it.

“If you like the idea of blood,” he murmured, his voice low and dark as he stalked closer to me once again, “then taste it on my skin.”

My eyes widened as he caged me against the wall again, so close I could almost taste the ale on his breath. I stared up at him in shock, but I didn’t move to stop him again.

Those words… They set something on fire inside of me. A pulse of embers burning through my veins. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help it. Maybe I did want to taste the remnants of blood left on his skin from that battle. Maybe, deep down, that primal part of me wanted nothing more than to lick him clean.

I barely registered the instinctive growl that left my throat, but I felt my wolf surge up inside of me, responding to his closeness.

The word escaped my lips before I could stop it.

“Mate…”

At that moment, I wasn’t even fully myself, and it was clear that Neil wasn’t either. Our bodies moved of their own accord, closing the distance between us once again like it was the only thing we knew how to do.

His hands, rough from battle and hardened from years of wielding weapons, were surprisingly gentle as they slid over my skin, his fingers grazing my arms and settling at my waist, pulling me closer. His left hand moved up, tangling in my hair to tug my mouth harder against his.

A little groan slipped out of me at the sensation of him tangled with me. He parted his lips, an invitation, and I took it. I slid my tongue into his mouth, swirling it around his own tongue. He really did taste a little like blood, but also ale. Mostly ale, although the metallic taste was there.

But what struck me was just how delicate his touch was despite the wild look in his eyes and the intensity of his mouth. He moved against me gently, almost reverently, not at all like the brutal Lycan prince I had expected.

There was a strange desperation in his movements, a need that went beyond just the pull of our wolves. And yet it felt deeper, like he was clinging to me in his grief, as though I were the only thing keeping him grounded.

And I couldn’t deny the way my own wolf answered that call, the raw, consuming desire that had taken hold of me. I needed him just as badly as he needed me.

It was as if, in this moment, nothing else mattered. Not the complications of our circumstances, not the differences in our nature as Lycans and Werewolves or the deep-rooted, cultural hatred simmering just beneath the surface of our skin.

It was just this… need. Raw and primal, like the wound that was still throbbing in my hand.

Our mouths moved together, the kiss deepening as his thumb brushed along my jaw, sending shivers down my spine. My hands found their way to his shoulders, then down to his chest, tracing over the muscles there, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his pulse under my touch.

Then, gently, I felt something warm and hard press against my leg.

I pulled back just a little, just for air, and met his gaze. He was still hungry and yearning, and we… were alone. A tiny smirk tugged at one corner of his pouty lips, and that was all it took to know that he was thinking exactly what I was thinking.

No one would have to know. It could be our little secret, even if it was the stupidest thing either of us had ever done.

My cheeks flushed, and I quickly shut off the part of my brain that stored all thought.

I didn’t think as I carefully moved my skirt aside. I didn’t allow myself coherent thoughts as I leaned back against the tavern wall, hiking my leg up across his hip. There was no logic in our movements as he pulled his cloak around us, the warmth of his skin enveloping us as he moved against me.

I just knew I wanted him. Even if we were outside a dingy tavern in the middle of the night, inches from being spotted, I didn’t care. Wanting my mate was the most natural thing in the world.

A soft moan escaped me as I shut my eyes, feeling his warmth press into me. The heat between my thighs pulsed and throbbed, every fiber of my being yearning to draw him closer, to seal our fate together.

I didn’t look down, as if seeing his member would just remind me how stupid this was, but he was… big. Bigger than I’d ever had, for sure.

And he was warm and smooth and filled me perfectly to the brim, and his mouth was tender as he growled and closed his lips around my shoulder, and—

“Raven? Neil?”

The voice cut through the fog that had overtaken us, and we both jolted back, immediately coming to our senses. Neil cursed under his breath and quickly concealed the evidence of our little mistake as I tugged my cloak around myself, shivering at the sudden loss of his heat.

I looked up, my heart still pounding, and saw Eric, Ember, and Castor stepping out of the back door to the tavern.

“There you two are,” Eric said, planting his hands on his hips. “We thought you ran off.”

Castor glanced at the discarded mugs of ale on the ground. “Did something happen?”

Neil opened his mouth to reply, but I spoke before he could.

“It was nothing.” The word came out steadier than I thought it would.

Neil looked at me with something like surprise flickering in his eyes at my cool demeanor. But he quickly masked it, turning to the others and clearing his throat.

“We should head back to the castle,” he said simply. “It’s late.”

Without another word, we turned and began walking back, the guards falling into step behind us. I could feel Neil’s presence beside me, a constant reminder of what had just happened, of the way his lips had felt against mine, the way his touch had ignited something in me that I’d been trying to ignore.

The walk back was quiet. I stole a glance at Neil from the corner of my eye, but his gaze was fixed forward, his face a mask of calm control.

I couldn’t tell if he was feeling the same confusion that I was, or if he had already dismissed the entire encounter as nothing more than an unfortunate lapse in judgment. And maybe that was all it was—a moment of weakness driven by our own versions of grief and the pull of our wolves.

But somehow, that explanation didn’t sit right with me.

By the time we reached the castle, the adrenaline had faded. We exchanged nothing more than a brief nod before parting ways, him heading toward his quarters, me heading back to my own.

I didn’t dare look back as I slipped into my room, afraid that if I did, I might be tempted to follow him and try to finish what we had started. And that would be utterly stupid.

When I finally closed the door to my room behind me, I leaned against it, my fingers brushing my lips. I swore I could still feel the warmth of his kiss lingering there. But as I stood there, I told myself that I didn’t want this, that whatever was between us was nothing more than instinct and hunger. It was just our wolves taking advantage of our emotions, nothing more.

I was afraid and alone here, and had been worried that he had been dead just hours before. And as for Neil… Well, he didn’t know what had happened to Serena. Maybe she was dead. He was grieving, even if he didn’t show it, and I was the closest thing to comfort as his fated mate.

But it was for the best that things didn’t go further. After all, if we had done the deed, then we might have accidentally marked each other.

And that would have made this whole ordeal ten times worse.

With that settled, I undressed and climbed into bed, knowing that training tomorrow would be extra brutal.

But every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Neil, the intensity in his gaze, the gentleness in his touch, the way he had looked at me like I was something he needed as much as air. It made it really difficult to think that it was just pure instinct when he had looked at me like that.

And unfortunately, those visions meant that sleep was out of the question that night.