HERA
I barely had time to process the gravity of the word mate ringing in my head before Atticus closed the distance between us.
His strides were unrelenting, his gaze burning with something primal and raw.
“Atticus, wait—” I barely managed to breathe out, but he didn’t.
He didn’t wait.
Before I could utter another word, his hands were on me—one gripping my waist, pulling me flush against him, the other cradling the back of my neck with a possessiveness that sent a shiver racing down my spine.
And then his lips were on mine.
The kiss was molten, scorching, stealing the air from my lungs. There was no hesitation, no careful exploration—it was an unrestrained claim.
His mouth moved against mine with a hunger I could feel in every fibre of my being, igniting something deep inside
