Page 44 of Claimed By the Vykan
He would not touch her until she faced him with strength rather than disorientation.
He would not be the Vykan who brought destruction through madness.
He would keep the mask on as long as necessary, holding every instinct in restraint.
And he would wait until she was ready and strong enough to stand beside him without fear.
Kyrax looked down at her once more, memorizing the quiet lines of her sleeping face, the warmth she radiated, the fragile beat of her human heart echoing through the armor.
Morgan Halden,human,was his fate, and he would protect her against the Council, the Saelori, and the universe itself.
He would not succumb to the madness of the one who failed so long ago.
Discipline over instinct, strength over chaos, restraint over ruin.
He would shape their bond deliberately and carefully.
He would make her powerful enough to stand with him instead of beneath him.
He would bring her into his world not as a captive, but as something far more rare.
She shifted again, nestling closer.
Kyrax tightened his hold just slightly, allowing himself the smallest taste of what it would be like to keep her fully, openly, without armor or mask between them.
Soon.
But not yet.
He closed his eyes behind the mask, letting her breath and heartbeat guide him into a stillness he had not known in centuries.
This was the beginning of their fate… and he would not let anything tear it from him.
CHAPTER 20
Morgan surfaced slowly, as if rising through warm water. Everything felt soft at first—toosoft—and then she became aware of the pressure beneath her cheek. Solid. Smooth. Cool. A steady pulse of energy hummed deep inside it, like distant thunder rolling behind metal.
Her eyes opened to the dim light of her chamber.
And to the fact that she was still in his arms.
She jerked slightly, then stilled, breath catching. Her head rested against the black armor of his chestplate, her body half draped across his lap. His arm curved securely around her back. He hadn’t shifted, hadn’t moved away, hadn’t so much as loosened his hold.
He had stayed with her.
Her heart thudded hard.Did that really happen?The collapse. The dizziness. The way everything inside her rebelled at his absence, as if whatever the hell this bond was had wrapped itself into her cells and refused to let go.
She swallowed, her throat tight. “How… long was I unconscious?”
His voice came warm and low above her, vibrating through the armor and into her skin. “Long enough to recover. You slept deeply. You needed it.”
Something in his tone—quiet, almost gentle—sent an unfamiliar shiver down her spine.
She pushed herself to sit more upright, though she remained in his hold, her body betraying any attempt at distance by leaning back into him. “You stayed,” she murmured, unable to stop the surprise from coloring her voice. “After you—after everything you said about control… you stayed.”
“It was necessary.”
That was all he offered. No apology, no explanation, just quiet certainty. But she saw more in the way his helm tilted slightly, in the way his hold shifted with subtle care. There was something close to tenderness there—buried beneath the armor, beneath the danger.
