Eira didn’t move. Didn’t dare to.

His hand slid from her jaw to the nape of her neck, fingers threading lightly through her hair. It wasn’t possessive. It was reverent—like he couldn’t believe she was real.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured, voice husky with something unspoken.

“I haven’t done anything,” she replied, breath ghosting across his lips.

“You make me forget how long it’s been since I wanted something… selfish.”

Their lips were so close now, the space between them thin as a thread. Her pulse thundered in her ears. Still, she didn’t close the distance.

“If I said I wanted you to kiss me,” she whispered, “would you?”

He went still—tense like a coiled beast. “I’d want to.”

“But?”

“I’m not sure I’d stop.”

Her fingers curled into his shirt, the warmth of his body seeping into her skin. “Maybe I wouldn’t want you to.”

A low sound escaped him—not quite a growl, but close. He shifted, and her back met the cool stone wall behind her. His hand stayed at her neck, thumb brushing slowly over the hollow of her throat.

He lowered his head. His lips hovered at her jaw, then just under her ear. He didn’t kiss her—he breathed her in, like he was trying to memorize her. It was maddening.

“I’ve waited a hundred years without warmth,” he said softly. “If I touch you now, I won’t be gentle.”

Her voice trembled, but not with fear. “Then teach me how to hold the fire.”

His mouth finally touched her skin—a slow, aching kiss just below her ear. She gasped, body arching slightly, and his hand pressed against her waist to still her.

But then… he pulled back.

Not far. Just enough.

His eyes glowed faintly in the dim cavern light, flickering with restraint and hunger. “Not here. Not yet.”

Eira blinked, dazed. “Why?”

“Because this moment—you—deserve to be more than shadows and stone.”

Then he left her there, skin burning, heart screaming.