Page 41 of Shifting Hearts 1
His voice is rough, reverent, like he’s speaking a spell instead of a sentence.
“My queen, my mate,Mo Lasair,” he groans, brushing the hair from my face with a tenderness that makes my chest ache.
The words settle over me like smoke. Thick, warm, and ancient. I know what queen means. I know what mate means. ButMo Lasair, that’s something else. Something older. It curls in my ears like fire, like a name I’ve never heard but somehow recognize.
“What does that mean?” I whisper, breath catching.
He leans in, forehead resting against mine, and the bond pulses between us, hot, alive, undeniable.
“It’s Old Tongue,” he murmurs. “It means my flame.”
My heart stutters.
My flame.
I’ve spent years hiding the parts of me that burned too brightly, too loudly. Now this man, this warrior, this protector, this dragon calls me his flame like I'm somehow worthy. Like I’m not something to fear, but something to worship.
I blink up at him, overwhelmed. He’s so tall, so solid, carved from heat and shadow. I’ve never felt beautiful in my own skin. Never felt safe in it.
His hands don’t hesitate, his eyes don’t flinch.
He sees me. All of me, and he chooses me anyway.
Kieran slides his hand between us and brushes his fingers along my clit, circling and circling until I’m a panting mess. He keeps going, not relenting.
I grip his arms. "Kieran," I gasp.
He doesn't stop.
I don't know how long we go like that. His body pinning mine, his cock moving inside me while his hand works its magic,but I'm right on the edge when he finally kisses me again, swallowing my cries as I break apart.
This time, the room doesn't shift, the walls don't hum.
The only magic is between us, and I'm not sure which one of us is controlling it.
He thrusts into me a few more times, then his own release follows. He doesn't move his hand, his fingers still teasing me, and the combination is enough to send another jolt of pleasure through my body. My eyes roll back, my back arches, and another moan breaks through.
"Fuck, Raven. You're perfect," Kieran groans, his fingers still swirling over my sensitive skin.
After a few moments, he grabs my waist and pulls me even closer. He buries his face in my hair and inhales, breathing me in.
I relax into him, letting my head rest on his chest, his unique scent of cedar and smoke filling the air. I've never felt safer.
His heartbeat is steady beneath my cheek, a low thrum like distant thunder. I close my eyes and let it anchor me, each beat a promise that I’m not alone anymore.
His arms tighten around me, protective, possessive. Not in a way that cages, but in a way that shields.
“You smell like stormlight,” he murmurs into my hair, voice thick with reverence. “Like the moment before lightning strikes.”
I don’t know what that means. Not exactly. But it makes something inside me flicker, a memory, maybe, or a prophecy I haven’t yet lived.
I tilt my head, just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes glow faintly, ember-bright, like the fire inside him is waking up. For me.
“I’ve waited lifetimes for you,” he whispers, stroking my cheek. “And I’d wait a thousand more.”
I don’t know where I end and he begins.
His breath is still warm against my skin, his arms wrapped around me like armor, like sanctuary. The bond pulses between us—no longer a whisper, but a roar. I feel it in my blood, in my bones, in the space between heartbeats. Something ancient has shifted. Somethinginsideme.
