Lily
“You’re my mate, Lily, and I am yours.”
Nothing felt real. In that moment, stars could have fallen from the sky and Lily would not have noticed – or cared.
His words made something deep, something sacred, stir within her. She’d known all along; hearing it aloud was acceptance. It was peace.
Elijah watched her, just as she watched him. His eyes were quiet, their grey alight in a way she’d never seen before. The silence between them stretched, though in it a thousand words were said.
Everything that had mattered seconds ago fell away. Alpha or not, Elijah was not Atticus. The eyes that watched her now with such intensity, such affection, were grey, not green. Lily unpicked Elijah, bone by bone. She traced the scar running from his temple to his lip, followed the hard lines of his cheekbones and jaw. The features themselves did not matter; it was the man behind them that did.
“I know,” she said softly, like a cool, night-time breeze rustling the leaves. “It’s impossible, but… I know.”
Elijah swallowed. Suddenly aware of their proximity, Lily’s instinct was to step back. But something else – a stronger urge – willed her to move closer. His arms tightened around her protectively, and her head found its home beneath his chin.
She felt his voice rumbling in his chest as he spoke. “It is impossible. And yet…”
“Here we are,” she finished.
“Here we are indeed.” He paused. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was the Alpha. It truly did not seem to be of significance. Not when we were out there.” He gestured limply into the forest behind them. “I should have told you the second you agreed to come here, though.”
“Yes. You should have.” She would not forgive him so easily, though the bond between them – the mate bond, she corrected herself retroactively – made her long to. Her heart was full, replaying his words: “I am yours,” over and over in her mind.
What Atticus had done was unforgivable. But this… this was not.
Lily blinked away the last of her tears. She’d felt so much in such a short time. Breathing deeply, she allowed herself to leech comfort from Elijah’s steady form.
She’d had no time to process since leaving Blood Moon. Everything was a blur of pain and loss and survival, broken only by the shattering light of Elijah’s company. Somehow, they had found each other. For now, there was nothing but quiet. For now, there was no pain.
In time, it would return. Lily knew that. In time, she would have a chance to untangle the knot of emotion writhing in her chest. But, as they stood together, pines arching high above them, bathed in bottle-green dappled light, her mind was clear.
Lily tipped her head back and pressed her lips to his.
Warm hands tangled in her hair. His mouth was soft, gentle, probing. Each shift in pressure asked a question, and Lily’s lips gave the answers readily.
Her back arched, and his hands followed its curve. He nipped at her bottom lip, and she gasped into his mouth. Flames burned just beyond her vision, his fire tangling with the heat raking down her stomach and thighs.
Lost in one another, the moment stretched and rounded. Pine needles shuddered free, falling to the ground like snow on a windswept night. Hope settled like lead around Lily’s heart.
Chests heaving, they broke apart. “Mate,” Elijah ground out, something primal awakening in his gaze. “You are my mate.”
“And I am yours,” Lily said, softly, gently. Her words were kindling, stoking the flame that burned between them. Elijah groaned, and then his hands were on her once more.
Inside, Lily soared. The movements, the ministrations, her body made were entirely separate from the feelings they created, even though they were intimately twined. Born of the same bond, her hands and mouth were hot, heady, heavy; her soul was calm, distant, the smoke that rose from the flame.
* * *
The first time Lily had been kissed, it had been a dare. She’d sat down clumsily, the boy opposite her – Dante, all too-long limbs and a mess of curls – grinning awkwardly. Their classmates had clapped and jeered, and they’d lunged at one another, desperate for the moment to pass.
Lily could remember the crackle of the fire pit better than she could remember the kiss. Heat had bloomed down one side of her face, the vision in her closed eyes blistering orange in one eye and cool, endless black in the other.
Kissing Elijah was nothing like kissing Dante. She could have sworn the sun and moon had rolled around the earth a million times before either of them managed to pull away. Day and night blurred into one. Time held no meaning. Elijah was all that existed.
Leaning heavily against one another, lungs straining, hearts aching for more, they collapsed against a tree. Despite her ravenous body, Lily was calm. Everything that had plagued her shuddered away, a snake slithering back into the grass. This was right. She could not think beyond this moment, this eternity.
“I don’t know why I was so scared to admit it to myself,” she said, meeting Elijah’s gaze. His eyes were so light they looked more white than grey and, though she did not understand how their shade changed so drastically, she did not care. He was beautiful and, more than that, he sung out to her in a song only she would understand.
“Past hurt lingers,” he said simply. “This is a second chance for us both.”