Chapter 17: Fangs, Fur, and a Good Girl - 7
Rein hadn't planned to stay this long.
He'd sat down beside her passed-out body only to catch his breath, to wait for the drug to wear off, maybe to slip away before the sunrise-that-never-came burned the Devourlands red again.
But somewhere between watching the rise and fall of her breath and letting her tail drape unconsciously over his thigh, he'd stopped thinking about escape.
Not permanently.
Just... not yet.
The truth was, he wasn't sure what waited outside the den besides teeth and heat and beasts bigger than the lies he told himself.
And inside this den—inside this tangle of furs and fur and strange, violent affection—was warmth. Food. A bed. And a woman who hadn't flayed him alive despite having claws and motive.
Rein told himself he was just playing the long game.
But even now, as Zeraka began to stir, golden eyes flickering open with that feral gleam—he still hadn't moved.
She didn't leap up like before.
She stretched. Slowly. Muscles rippling under bare skin and battered armor. A yawn like a lioness in heat.