The thunderous clash of metal and the cries of warriors filled the air, a chaotic symphony underscored by the roar of the beast still recovering from its collision with the earth. Dust rose in the wake of every strike, swirling like a storm in the wake of a shipwreck. Una stood in Jason’s arms, her breath shallow, her pulse quickening, but the connection between them held her steady.
Jason was trembling, his fingers digging into her back, pulling her closer. He was still fighting to regain control, but she could feel it—his resolve was faltering.
The wind howled, a shrill whistle slicing through the sounds of battle as he leaned into her, his forehead touching hers.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice a raw rasp against her ear, vulnerable in a way she had never heard before.
