Page 66 of Growl Me, Maybe

“I told you I’d be here when you woke,” he said.

Her lips curved. “I almost believed you.”

“I meant it.” His hand found hers, rough fingers curling around her smaller ones. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

She searched his face, looking for cracks. For the familiar hesitations. But they weren’t there.

He looked tired. Ragged. Butpresent.

All in.

“You okay?” he asked.

She swallowed hard. “I think so. I feel like I got hit by a runaway magical hay bale, but otherwise… yeah.”

“Your power—what you did—Lyra, I’ve never seen anything like it. At least the aftermath of it.”

She smiled faintly. “Guess that’s what happens when you piss off a chaos witch.”

His expression twisted between awe and guilt. “You scared me.”

“You broke my heart,” she whispered, then squeezed his hand. “But you fixed it.”

They sat in silence for a beat, the air between them buzzing—not just with magic, but with everything they hadn’t said. Everything they’d finallyfelt.

He leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “I know I’ve messed this up more times than I can count. I was scared. But not anymore.”

She blinked. “You mean that?”

He nodded, slow and sure. “I love you. And that’s what scared me. And it’s not just because of the bond. It’s you. I’ve never meant anything more in my life.”

She stared at him, her heart thudding louder than the rain.

Then she reached for him.

Her hands slid around his shoulders as she pulled him down, and he went willingly, gently, onto the mattress beside her. Theirlips met, slow, trembling at first, like they were both afraid to breathe too deep and break the spell.

But then the fear burned off. And what was left was fire.

Lyra shifted, sliding her leg over his hip, straddling him as he cradled her back with both hands. His touch was reverent, his mouth brushing over hers like he couldn’t get enough. She kissed him back with everything she had—soft and sweet anddesperate.

“Jace,” she whispered, dragging his shirt up over his head, her hands mapping the ridges of muscle she’d only brushed before.

His hands roamed her sides, fingers tracing the curve of her spine, her waist, until he paused. “Are you sure?”

She kissed his jaw. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Her fingers fumbled with the button of his jeans. Jace’s breath hitched—a fractured sound that dissolved into a growl as he caught her hands, pressing them into the mattress. His storm-grey eyes locked onto hers, pupils blown wide. “Slow,” he murmured, the word gravel and smoke. “We don’t rush this.”

She arched beneath him, her laugh breathless. “You’re the one who shifted into a wolf and sprinted through three wards to drag me out of that hellscape.Slowisn’t your style.”

He nipped her lower lip, the sharp edge of his teeth contrasting with the softness of his mouth. “For you,” he said, peeling her shirt over her head, “I’ll learn.”

Clothes fell like leaves, his jeans, her skirt, the lace of her bra catching on a silver ring before he unhooked it with a reverence that made her shiver. The air between them hummed, her magic swirling in golden motes that danced against his skin. When his palm slid up her ribcage, she gasped, her back bowing off the bed.

“Jace—”

“Tell me.” His lips traced the hollow of her throat, fingers drifting lower, teasing the damp heat between her thighs. “Tell me what you need.”

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