Page 26 of Sun's Roar

She didn’t heed it. Rising on her tiptoes, she pressed her mouth to his.

The moment their lips connected, something ignited between them—a spark that wasn’t caused by her newfound powers but by the chemistry that had simmered since their eyes first met in her restaurant. Sol responded instantly, one hand sliding into her hair, cradling the back of her head as he took control of the kiss.

His lips were firm and demanding, claiming hers with a hunger that matched her own. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to her as though afraid he might pull away. But Sol showed no signs of retreating—quite the opposite. He backed her against the wall, his body pressing against hers, surrounding her with his heat and strength.

His lips soon left hers, trailing down her neck with a mix of hunger and precision that made her knees weak. His teeth grazed her skin, sending shivers down her spine, while his hands roamed her curves with a possessiveness that should have alarmed her but instead set her body ablaze. Every touch and every nip made her feel like she was combusting from the inside out.

“Sol,” she gasped, her voice breathless and shaky, her fingers tightening in the fabric of his suit jacket. “What are you?—“

“Just relax.” His voice was low and commanding, and it shut down her protest before it could fully form. “I’m showing you what our connection feels like. You’re mine, Helena. You’ve always been mine.”

His words should have sounded ridiculous, arrogant even, but the way he said them—so certain, so fiercely possessive—made her pulse race. She had never felt like this, like every nerve in her body was alive and on fire. It was as if he had unlockedsomething deep inside her, something primal and untamed she hadn’t even known existed.

One of his hands slid down to her waist, gripping her firmly as he pulled her closer, his lips never leaving her skin. The other hand cupped her breast, his thumb brushing over her peaked nipple through the thin fabric of her dress. Helena arched into his touch, a moan escaping her lips before she could stop it.

“You feel that?” he murmured against her neck, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. “That heat? That need?”

Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and desire. She didn’t understand what was happening, but her body didn’t care. It responded to him instinctively, craving his touch, his heat, and his strength. She wanted to protest, to tell him this was too much and too fast, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she found herself clinging to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he continued to explore her with a confidence that left her breathless.

Suddenly, he pulled back slightly, his green eyes locking onto hers. The piercing intensity in his gaze made her stomach clench. “Do you trust me?”

She blinked, her mind scrambling to catch up. “I—I don’t even know you.”

“But you do,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “Your body knows me. Your soul knows me. You just need to let your mind go and feel it.”

Before she could respond, he bent down and scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing. She let out a surprised yelp, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

“Sol, put me down,” she said, though there was no real heat in her voice. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and a part of her was thrilled by this display of raw, alpha male strength.

“Not a chance,” he said, a smirk tugging on his lips as he carried her through the castle. “You’re all mine, Helena. And I’m taking you to where I can show you exactly what that means.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but the look on his face—determined, possessive, and just a little bit wild—silenced her. Instead, she found herself studying his face, the sharp lines of his jaw, and the way his dark hair framed his features. He was impossibly handsome, and the way he held her with such ease and confidence made her feel both protected and utterly claimed.

TEN

SOL

Sol carried Helena through the grand halls of his castle, his pulse thrumming with a rhythm that matched the certainty in his steps. Her body pressed against his chest, her warmth seeping into him, and the scent of her—cinnamon and something uniquely her—filled his senses. His wolf prowled under his skin, restless and eager, but he kept it in check. For now. She was his, and he’d waited centuries for this exact moment. He wasn’t about to rush it.

She opened her mouth, likely to argue, but the look in her hazel eyes softened as she studied his face. He knew what she saw—the alpha in him, the man who’d waited lifetimes for her. She didn’t fight him, didn’t squirm or protest. Instead, she let her head rest against his shoulder, her breath warm against his skin.

The castle’s stone walls blurred past as he moved with purpose, his feet carrying him toward the one place he’d envisioned her in since the moment he’d laid eyes on her. His chambers. The heart of his world. The door loomed ahead, and he kicked it open gently, the latch clicking shut behind them as he stepped inside.

He set her on her feet, her bare toes brushing against the plush carpet. The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the tall windows, and the air was thick with anticipation. Sol locked the door, the sound of the bolt sliding into place echoing in the quiet.

Helena turned to face him, her long red hair tumbling over her shoulders and her cheeks flushed. “This is…” she trailed off, her voice trembling just enough to betray her nerves. But there was something else in her eyes—desire, curiosity, and a spark that mirrored the fire he’d seen in her when she’d kissed him.

“Exactly what it’s supposed to be,” he finished for her, closing the gap between them. “You and me.”

Her breath hitched as he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over the delicate curve of her cheekbones.

“Sol, I still don’t?—“

He kissed her, cutting off her words with a kiss that was all fire and need. Her lips were soft and yielding, and then suddenly they weren’t—she kissed him back with a fervor that sent heat coursing through him. Her hands slid up his chest, fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt, and he groaned against her mouth.

“You’re overthinking this,” he breathed against her lips. “Stop thinking. Just feel.”

She let out a shaky laugh, her hands moving to the hem of his shirt. “You’re not exactly giving me a lot of room to think.”

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