Elara’s POV
“What if someone better comes along?” I ask, teasing him.
A feral look takes over his gaze.
“There is no one better. And even if there were, you’re mine now. I don’t share.”
The possessiveness in his tone should probably scare me. Instead, it sends fire racing through my veins. After years of being unwanted, discarded, and used, the idea of being claimed so completely is intoxicating.
“Yours,” I breathe, and I see his pupils dilate.
“Say it again.”
“I’m yours.”
The affirmation comes easier this time, and I see the way it affects him—the way his lips press together, the way his breathing becomes uneven.
“And I’m yours,” he says, leaning down until his lips barely brush mine. “Forever. No matter what happens, no matter who tries to take you from me, you belong to me, and
