Touching him by the fire.
Kissing him on the shore.
I’m overwhelmed, drowning in an ocean of memory, an unfathomable depth of feeling I didn’t know I was capable of. I’m completely shocked by the way my love for him took hold of every part of me, masked itself as an impossible choice when the truth was that I could only ever choose him.
From that very first night, my fate was sealed.
Queen of the dark.
I rush to him, crashing into him with my whole body, squeezing him with all my might. Tears run down my face, and I close my eyes and press my lips to his ear. “I remember.”
His body shakes as he takes a breath, so strong it’s as if it’s the first time his lungs have ever met the air, breathing in the life he almost lost.
“I remember,” I say again, my voice louder, making sure he hears it. Making sure he trusts it. Making sure he knows.
“I missed you.” His words are quiet and rough and beautiful.
I kiss his neck and jaw before finding his lips, already wet with saltwater tears. His movements are slow and hesitant, as if he’s ensuring that I’m real, ensuring that I won’t disappear as soon as he lets his guard down.
“I’m here,” I whisper against his lips.
I feel the moment his walls crumble between us, crashing to the earth.
“Tana,” he breathes, opening his mouth and clutching my face between his hands, kissing me as if he’s making up for all the kisses we lost, hungry from the time we spent apart.
His fingers are restless, sliding down my face and lingering on my jaw, trailing down my neck and moving over my collarbones. A shiver runs down my spine, and my breath hitches. “Take me upstairs,” I say.
He kisses me again and finds my hand, leading me through the manor and up to his room. He keeps looking back at me as if it isn’t enough to feel my fingers laced with his. He needs to see me, needs to make sure I’m still here, and I love it.
He opens his bedroom door, and I walk inside, the light from the fire casting the room in copper shadows that dance across the floor and up the walls. There is no other light.
I slowly walk to the bed and turn to face him.
“Wolfe?” I say, letting the thin straps of my dress fall from my shoulders.
He swallows hard. “Yes?” His voice is like sandpaper, coarse and uneven, and I hear the vulnerability in it, the fear that this might all be a dream, that he might wake up to a girl with no memory of him.
“I’m right here,” I say. “Touch me until you’re convinced this is real.”
He doesn’t move. He stares at me, frozen in place, completely still.
“Please.”
He finally closes the space between us and takes my head in his hands, kissing me until I’m breathless. I tug at his shirt and pull it over his head before letting it fall to the floor. He slowly undoes the buttons of my dress, the gray silk sliding down my body and pooling around my feet, his fingers trailing the length of my spine.
I lean back onto the bed and bring Wolfe with me, never letting go of him. He kisses my mouth and eyelids and neck, desperate at first, then slower, as if with every touch he’s assuring himself this will not be the last time. He slides his hand down my side and over my hip, all the way to my knee before pausing and slowly trailing his fingers back up. I clutch at his shoulders as he follows the curve of my thigh, gasping when he finds what he’s looking for, my entire body responding. I am lost in him. Completely lost in him.
I shove my hands into his hair and arch into his touch, whispering his name against his mouth. “More,” I say.
He brings his hands to my ribs and his hips between my legs, his breath catching in his throat as he begins to move, closer to me than he’s ever been. The closest he can get, and yet it doesn’t feel close enough. I grasp his back and feel his weight on me, pulling and pulling and pulling, and maybe he isn’t the only one who’s terrified he’s dreaming.
I savor every sigh, every kiss, every touch, feeling him in ways I’ve never felt anyone, listening to his breaths as they stall and hitch, as they get heavier and faster. We build together, nearing a cliff I’m desperate to jump from. He pauses, catching my mouth in his. Then we leap together, and the intimacy of seeing him so out of control takes my breath away. He is magic to me, and I realize that at some point, I stopped being able to distinguish between the two.
He has always seen me, not as a role but as the center of my life, forcing me to find my own truths. And in the midst of it all, I found him. He is my truth, and there are not enough lies in the world to convince me otherwise.