Page 154 of Bound By Song

Not when she’s here.

My knot holds us firm, snug and warm, and I can feel her breathing start to slow. Her scent is thick with satisfaction, sweet and golden and heavy in the air, curling with the darker spice of mine. It’s the scent of home.

Ofus.

“You did so good for me,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “So fucking perfect, omega. I’m never letting you go, Evie. Never.”

She hums, melting into me. Her fingers curl weakly at my chest.

“Stay with me,” she murmurs.

“Always.”

I press another kiss to her hair and start to purr – low and steady, a rumble from deep in my chest that vibrates through us both. Her body relaxes fully then, soft and safe, her breath syncing with mine.

And I know, without question, that I’d burn the world for her.

The light filtering in through the window is low and grey, soft with the weight of a storm clouded morning. The air in the room is still thick with our scents – honey and leather and heat. My knot has finally eased, but I haven’t moved. Not even a little.

She’s still curled against me, skin damp and flushed, head tucked under my chin like she belongs there. Which she does.

Her breathing’s evened out, but she’s not asleep. I can tell by the subtle flutter of her lashes and the tiny hum she makes every time I stroke my fingers through her hair. She’s boneless, sated, the steady thrum of her omega contentment vibrating gently against my skin.

There’s a soft knock at the edge of the nest – barely more than a brush of knuckles against wood.

I glance up.

Xar’s there, dressed in jeans and a clean hoodie, hair damp like he’s just showered. His gaze scans over us both, lingering briefly on the small bite mark I left on her neck, before flicking back to mine with a grin that’s somehow both knowing and impossibly gentle.

“How is she?” he asks quietly.

“Perfect,” I say simply, brushing my thumb along the curve of her cheek. “Tired.”

“I can smell the heat from the hall,” he mutters, shaking his head in mock exasperation. “No wonder you didn’t make it to breakfast.”

Evie shifts slightly in my arms, her voice a murmur. “Didn’t even realise it was morning.”

“It’s past midday,” Xar replies, stepping closer. “We let you sleep. But you’ve gotta eat something, sweetheart.”

She groans softly, tucking her face further into my chest. “Don’t want to move.”

I chuckle, pressing a kiss to her hair. “That’s fair.”

Xar crouches beside the nest, setting down a tray I hadn’t even noticed he was carrying. “Brought tea. Some toast with honey. And one of those weird granola bars you like.”

Evie perks up at that, lifting her head a little. “The pink wrapper ones?”

He grins. “Only the best for our girl.”

Her cheeks flush – not with heat this time, but something softer. Shyer. I feel it too, the heavy wave of something warm and precious blooming between the three of us.

“Don’t move,” she mumbles when I try to shift.

“Evie,” I whisper gently. “You need to eat, love.”

“No,” she says, sharper this time, a little whine building behind the word. She curls tighter against me, one leg hitched over my hip, her bare skin hot and damp with sweat.

I try again. “Just a bite. You’ve got to keep your strength up.”

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