CHAPTER 404: MARKING (I)

Evaline:

For a long second, Draven just stared at me.

The air between us pulsed with something I couldn’t name - a tension so sharp and heavy it made my chest ache. His hand was still at the back of my neck, his thumb resting exactly where his mark would be. His eyes, dark and stormy, held mine as though he was trying to decide if I really meant it.

But then that hesitation - that flicker of disbelief - was gone.

The next heartbeat, his lips were on mine.

He kissed me with no restraint, no second thoughts. The kind of kiss that stripped away all pretenses, that left me breathless and dizzy and trembling. His mouth claimed mine as though he had been waiting for this moment forever... and maybe he had. Maybe we both had.

I had half expected him to pull away, to tell me we should talk to the others first - that such a thing needed to be discussed among my mates. It would have made sense. That was what I expected from Draven in response.

But he didn’t pull away.

He didn’t speak.

He didn’t hesitate.

Instead, he kissed me senseless - deep, consuming, and unrelenting.

Every trace of control I thought I had left shattered the moment his hand moved to my waist, pulling me against him until there was no space left between us. His warmth wrapped around me, his scent filling my lungs, his heartbeat drumming against my chest in wild rhythm.

When he finally broke the kiss to breathe, his forehead stayed pressed against mine, his lips brushing against my skin as he whispered, "You have no idea how long I have waited to hear you say that, Eva."

My breath trembled as I tried to steady myself. "I thought you would-"

"Say no?" he interrupted, his voice low and rough. "Tell you to wait? To talk to the others first?"

I nodded.

He smiled - a soft, crooked, devastating smile. "I probably should have. But right now, all I can think about is you."

I didn’t know what to say. My chest tightened, my throat went dry, and for a brief, dangerous second, all I could do was stare at him - the man who had once kept his distance, now looking at me like I was the only thing keeping him alive.

I had been meaning to tell them... all four of them... that I was ready. That I wanted to be marked, to truly belong to them in every way that mattered. It didn’t matter who did it first, or whether they wanted to do it together. I just wanted them.

But I hadn’t meant for it to happen like this. Not now. Not in the middle of a quiet morning, with our son asleep in the crib beside us.

Yet somehow, it felt right.

Draven’s hands slid down to my hips, his fingers curling into the fabric of my dress. His mouth found mine again, hungrier this time, the kiss deepening until I could barely remember where I ended and he began.

And then his hands moved lower, reaching for the hem of my dress.

That’s when I stopped him.

I broke the kiss, breathless, my fingers wrapping around his wrist. "Draven-"

He froze instantly, his eyes searching mine, concern flickering in his expression.

I turned my head toward the crib. Lioren was still sleeping peacefully, his small chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. The sight tugged a soft smile from me - and a sudden rush of guilt.

Draven followed my gaze. Then, as realization hit, he let out a long, controlled breath and nodded.

"You are right," he murmured, his voice lower now. "Not here."

He straightened and took my hand, threading his fingers through mine. His grip was firm but gentle, the kind that always made me feel grounded.

Without another word, he led me out of the room.

The sound of our footsteps on the polished floor was soft, but my heart was anything but quiet. Every beat thundered through my body, echoing louder than reason.

At the top of the stairs, Madam Elira appeared almost immediately - graceful and composed as always, though her eyes flicked between us with a knowing glint that made warmth rush to my cheeks.

"Stay with Lioren," Draven said, his tone calm but edged with a hint of command. "Make sure he doesn’t wake up alone."

"Of course, Alpha," Madam Elira replied with a small bow of her head.

Draven didn’t wait for further assurance. He simply tightened his hold on my hand and continued down the hall until we reached his room - the one he rarely used since he’s mostly at the Academy.

The door clicked shut behind us, and before I could even take a breath, he turned, pressing me against it.

My back hit the wood softly, and then his mouth was on mine again.

This kiss was nothing like before. It wasn’t slow or tentative - it was desperate. As if he had been holding back for too long and now refused to hold back at all. His hands framed my face, his thumbs brushing over my skin, tilting my head to deepen the kiss.

I gasped softly when he pressed closer, his body flush against mine. His scent - sharp, smoky, intoxicating - filled my senses, clouding every coherent thought.

"Draven..." I whispered, though I wasn’t sure if I meant it as a plea or a warning.

He pulled back just far enough to meet my gaze. His eyes were burning - that same mix of hunger and devotion, of restraint and ruin. "If you want me to stop, say it now."

I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

Instead, I reached for him, pulling him closer until our lips met again.

The world outside ceased to exist. There was only us - his breath against my cheek, the sound of his low growl vibrating through my chest, the warmth spreading through my body until every nerve felt alive.

His fingers trailed down my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When they reached my waist again, he didn’t stop. He traced the outline of my hips through the thin fabric, and I could feel the restraint in the way he touched me - careful, reverent, but trembling with the effort to control himself.

His mouth left mine only to travel down the side of my throat, his breath hot against my skin. Every kiss sent a jolt of heat racing through me, and I couldn’t stop the soft sound that escaped my lips when he found the sensitive spot near my collarbone.

He groaned softly, the sound low and rough. "You have no idea what you do to me."

"Then show me," I whispered before I could stop myself.

That broke whatever restraint he had left.