Bound By Moonlight to My Mates (by Sofange Daye) novel Chapter 63

Chapter 63

Charlotte

The world blurs when Theo carries me. I don’t know if it’s the tears burning my eyes, the wind whipping past, or the sheer force of his presence pressing down on me. I begged him to come. I screamed for him. And now

he’s here.

I keep my face buried in his chest, letting his raspberry scent take away the anxiety of whatever is happening. His arm is wrapped so tightly around my waist that I feel like I might snap in two. My hands cling to his shirt, afraid that if I let go, I will fall into nothing.

When he sets me down, it’s in a broken sanctuary. I get the odd feeling that I have been here before. It is strange and familiar. The firelight paints shadows across his sharp cheekbones, his dark hair falling loose around his face. His chest rises and falls too fast for someone who never loses control.

I can’t stop shaking. “You can help me,” I whisper, almost a plea. “You have to.”

His jaw tightens, and he shakes his head. “Charlotte…”

“No!” My fists hit his chest, weak but frantic. “Don’t you dare walk away from me again! You love me. I know you

1. do. Stop pretending.”

His hands close around my wrists before I can strike him again. His touch burns, not with anger, but with restraint. His eyes, those impossible, ancient eyes, search mine, and I see it there. The truth.

“You think I don’t want you?” His voice is a growl, rough and breaking. “I’ve wanted you for centuries. I want you in this life and all the ones that came before. We do this every time, and every time we break. I will never be able to give you what you desire. What you need.”

The words undo me, I crash into him, pulling his mouth down to mine. His lips meet mine like fire meeting dry tinder, and I burn. His grip slips from restraint into possession, dragging me closer until I’m flush against

him.

The kiss is frantic at first, wild and desperate, but then it deepens, slows, and the ache in my chest turns molten. Every part of me screams for him.

Clothes fall away between stolen breaths, hands fumbling but sure, like our bodies remember each other even if I don’t. His skin is hot, smooth, and when his mouth trails down my throat, my legs nearly give out.

“Say it,” he demands against my skin. “Say my name.”

“Theo,” I gasp, arching into him. “Please.”

And he answers me with his body, his touch reverent and fierce all at once. The healer, the demon, the mate I was never supposed to have, claiming me like I belong to him.

He lowers me to the ground, hovering above me for a moment. Our eyes meet, and it is like our souls are bleeding into each other. Claiming and holding onto each other for dear life.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he groans as his cock twitches against my core.

“Yes,” I breathe out. “We should. There is nothing I want more than this.”

He remains above me, unmoving. My hands trail up his arms, feeling the curves of his muscles under my touch. We have done this before, many times before. I may not remember, but my body does. With a growl, he lowers his lips to mine, pressing himself against my entrance.

When he finally moves inside me, I cry out, clutching at his shoulders as if I might disappear without him. Our bodies move together with fever, our lips grazing between thrusts. He kisses and nips at my skin, enough to bruise but not enough to claim. He whispers things against my lips, apologies, confessions, promises I can’t fully hear over the rush of blood in my cars.

It doesn’t matter what he has to say. Not right now. Not ever. He is mine, and I am his. Just as it should be, just as it always has been.

Every movement, every kiss, every bite down my shoulder feels like something breaking open inside me. Like something long buried is clawing its way free.

With our foreheads pressed together, we move in tandem, like the ebb and flow of the ocean. The wave of pleasure grows so large that when it crashes down, we both find release together. My nails dig into his back, and his teeth graze at my ear. I scream his name, and he growls mine in return.

When it is over, we lie together panting, me cradled into his arms like I am the most precious thing in his life.

And then it hits.

The memories slam into me, a tidal wave that steals

my

breath.

A crown of silver against my brow. A dagger slick with blood. Theo, no, not Theo, but him, bound to me in fire and fury. Tala screaming, my heart shattering, my death, over and over again.

I gasp, clutching him tighter, nails biting into his skin.

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