Page 163 of Bound By Song

Blaise kisses her forehead. “He does, baby. He really does. He’s just…scared.”

I pull her close, kissing her softly. “You’re everything, Evie. Don’t ever doubt it.”

But still she cries, clinging to us like we’re her lifeline.

And maybe we are.

DANE

The house is quiet when I wake, even though it’s late in the day.

Too quiet.

The kind that follows a storm – of weather, of heat, of hearts laid bare.

I sit on the edge of the sofa, scrubbing a hand over my face. My body aches in that dull, post-adrenaline kind of way. Every muscle is tight from holding back.

I’ve been holding back for days.

Not because I don’t want her. Fuck, if they knew how often I have to leave the room, just to keep from reaching for her like I’m starved. But wanting her isn’t the same as being ready to touch her like that.

Not when she’s like this.

Not whenI’mlike this.

Footsteps creak down the hall. Heavy. Measured. Xar.

I don’t look up when he steps into the room. Just reach for the jumper I tossed over the chair last night and drag it over my head.

“You need to talk to me,” Xar says, voice quiet but firm.

“I know.”

“You’ve been dodging this for days. You’ve done everything for her. You’ve bathed her, fed her, held her, braided her fucking hair. Fixed her nest. But you haven’ttouchedher, Dane. Not like she needs. Not like she wants.”

I clench my jaw. “You think I don’t know that?”

“Thensayit. Say what’s stopping you.”

I exhale sharply through my nose. “She’s not like anyone else, Xar. This isn’t just heat-fuelled fucking. She’sEvie. And if I touch her like that…I don’t know if I’ll survive it.”

Silence. Then:

“She thinks you don’t want her.”

I snap my head up.

Xar’s watching me, gaze level. “She sobbed herself to sleep in Blaise’s arms last night. You should’ve heard her, Dane. ‘Why doesn’t he want me?’ That’s what she said. Over and over.”

My chest caves in.

“She thinks she’s done something wrong,” Xar continues. “Thinks maybe she’s not enough foryou. You, the one who’s been looking after her like she’s made of spun glass.”

“She’s not glass,” I say roughly. “She’s fire. And I’m terrified I’ll burn.”

Xar crosses the room and grips my shoulder. Not hard. Just grounding.

“Then burn, Dane. She wantsyou. Not just your care. Not just your calm. She wants your teeth, your hands, your knot. She needs toknowit’s not just Blaise and me. That you’re hers too.”

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