Christian's eyes flashed amber.
I took the cloth from him and started washing his shoulders, the tattoos on his chest, and the scars he'd earned protecting his pack.
"This one?" I traced a long scar across his ribs.
"Rogue attack three years ago. Nearly lost Marcus that day."
"And this?" A circular scar on his shoulder.
"Silver bullet. Hunter got too close to pack lands."
I kept exploring, kept asking, and Christian's voice got rougher with every answer.
Then my empathic senses opened without me meaning them to, and—
Oh.
I could feel everything. His need, his love, and his complete awe that I was really here with him.
And because he could feel that I was feeling it, his feelings intensified, which made mine stronger, which made him— We were both gasping.
