Wash It All Away

Ella

Ryatt edges closer, slowly undoing the clasps and hooks keeping his leathers fastened to his body. There’s so much hunger in his eyes right now. Gone is that distant look of resignation, of sorrow, and of disbelief that clouded his vision the entire time we were healing in Maatua and the isles. It’s like coming home has brought my mate back to life.

I feel it too. My body’s no longer heavy with grief and despair. My wounds have healed. My mind is no longer plagued by Kane and what he did to me and my body.

My body only reacts to the way my mate is looking at me right now. Like I’m a meal. Like he’s been starving, and I’m the only thing that will satisfy him.

But it’s been a while since I’ve seen that primal look in his eyes that makes them darken to steel. Ryatt won’t go easy on me this time. He won’t hold back. He’s not afraid to hurt me now.

Because we made it home. Because we survived.

And because we have time he never thought we’d have together.

“Come here,” he growls a