His eyes darken, something deep and vulnerable flashing in them. For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he presses his forehead against mine, breathing me in like he’s memorising the moment.
“Rye’s right,” he hums. “You did well today. You keep holding everything together, even when you’re terrified.”
“I’m not terrified,” I lie, though my voice shakes.
He smiles. “Yeah, you are. But you still stand tall, anyway. That’s courage, and I admire that.”
“You make it easier,” I admit quietly.
He leans back just enough to meet my eyes. “Good. Then I’m doing my job.”
I smile, unable to help it. “You do more than you realise, Remy.”
He raises a brow. “Yeah?”
“You keep us safe. I see what you do for us all. How you distance yourself to stay focussed on watching our backs. I think sometimes you forget how much we all rely on you.”
He looks away, his throat working like he’s trying to swallow down emotion. “Maybe,” he says after a moment. “But it’s worth it. Because, for the first time in a long time, it feels like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
I reach for his hand. “You are.”
For a long moment, neither of us moves. His thumb traces circles against my palm, and I swear I can feel my pulse syncing to the rhythm of his. The air between us becomes charged, making it difficult to draw in a full breath.
“Paige,” he murmurs, his voice rough.
“Yeah?”
“I want to kiss you, but if I kiss you right now,” he says quietly, “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop there.”
I take a shaky breath, my heart thudding so hard it hurts. “Then don’t stop.”
For half a second, he freezes, then he’s standing, his hand sliding up to cup the side of my neck. His touch is gentle, and when his lips brush mine, I feel his hesitation.
The kiss deepens slowly. His other hand finds my waist, pulling me closer until I can feel his body pressed to mine.
When we break apart, our foreheads rest together again.
“What are you worried about?” I whisper.
“That I’m not enough,” he admits, his thumb brushing my lower lip. “I’ve always been the supporting act, not the main event.”
His honesty almost breaks me. I hate that I’ve ever made him feel like that, but he’s right. I’ve had a one-on-one moment with each of my mates, but never just Remy. It’s time I fixed that, and showed him just how much he means to me.
**Paige’s POV **
“I’ve never seen you as a supporting act, Rem.” I rise on my toes and kiss him again, this time with the quiet desperation of someone who’s been holding herself back for too long. pour everything I have into that kiss. Hoping he feels how much I want him, how much I need him. He responds with just as much passion, the kind that builds until it burns.
Remy’s hands skim over my body, tracing my every curve through my shirt. My fingers thread through his hair as the kiss deepens. I’m not thinking anymore; I’m just feeling.
His lips trail from my mouth to my jaw, down the curve of my neck. Every touch drives my need for him higher. My breath catches as he pulls back just enough to look at me, his hand brushing my cheek.
“You sure?” he whispers.
I nod, my heart thundering. “Yeah,” I breathe.
Something shifts in his expression, a mix of relief and tenderness that steals my breath. He cups my face in both hands and kisses me again, slower this time, as though he’s trying to tell me everything he can’t put into words.
When he lifts me, it’s effortless, natural, like we’ve done this a million times before. He carries me up the stairs, but we never stop kissing. There’s no rush, or desperate hunger; there’s just the kind of closeness that feels like coming home.
The weight of his forehead rests against mine when we pause, both of us breathing hard.” Paige,” he murmurs, voice rough. “You make me forget how much I hate this world.”
I smile softly, brushing my thumb over his bottom lip. “That’s because you don’t hate it, not really. You just haven’t given it a chance to show you everything it has to offer yet.”
His answering exhale is shaky, almost a laugh, and then his mouth finds mine again. The rest of the world blurs around us. Right here, in this moment, only he and I exist. He sits on the edge of the bed with me straddling his lap. His fingers work on the buttons of my blouse, making quick work of removing the fabric.
When he pulls back to look at me, his eyes catch on his mating mark. He runs a gentle finger over it, which sends a shiver through me.
“Please don’t cover these again, not when we are on pack lands,” he whispers, his tone gentle.
“I won’t, I only cover them when I need to.”
“I know, but even though I hate the way it happened, it’s also my proudest moment. Seeing you wear my mark, to let everyone see I’m yours is indescribable,” he admits.
I cover his hand with mine over his mark. “I don’t hate how it happened.”
“You should, I didn’t give you the moment you deserved,” he says, his eyes searching mine.
“I think it happened exactly the way it needed to,” I smile, and Remy shakes his head, opening his mouth to protest. I lean in and silence him with a kiss before I give him the truth he deserves to hear. “You weren’t ready to take that step with me, but you did it anyway. You put my safety over your own feelings, the way you always do with the people around you. Plus, I was actually terrified of letting a werewolf bite my neck. If you hadn’t done it the way you did, and shown me that it was nothing to fear, I probably would still be putting it off with all of you. I’m only mated now because of you, Remy. None of this would have happened without you, so thank you.”
He sucks in another shaky breath and looks lost for words as he feels the truth in mine.
I pull his T-shirt over his head, and kiss him again, because I don’t need his words right now, I just need him to let me show him what he means to me. Breaking the kiss, I stand in front of him, admiring his intense eyes, the shape of his handsome face, every line of muscle on his tanned chest as I slowly remove my clothes.
I love the way he watches me, how his eyes track my every movement. His wolf flashes through every time he sees something he particularly enjoys, like how I throw my bra to the floor, or the way I slowly push my lace panties down my legs.
Once I’m fully naked, his self-restraint snaps, and he stands, his hands landing on my hips.
“You are beautiful, Paige,” he breathes, his voice raw.
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