CHAPTER 11

The Heat Between Us

The moon hung low that night, swollen and golden like it knew something was coming.

Inside the chamber, the air pulsed with quiet magic. The walls still hummed from the Moonfire ritual. My body… had changed. Not just the baby, though she was growing fast, stretching my skin and magic in equal measure but me. I could feel the fire beneath my skin like a heartbeat. Constant. Warm. A warning. A promise.

Maverick hadn’t said much since Solon’s warning earlier that day. He paced in slow, tight circles when he thought I wasn’t looking. Protective. Tense. Beautiful in that dangerous way.

I sat near the window, moonlight painting my bare legs, my tunic loose and unbuttoned over the slight swell of my belly. The fabric clung to my thighs, damp from the heat rolling off me. A new kind of heat. Not rage. Not fear.

Hunger.

Maverick turned finally, eyes catching on the space between my parted knees, his breath hitching slightly.

“You’re staring,” I said.

His voice came low. Rough. “You’re glowing.”

I looked down. He wasn’t wrong. My skin shimmered faintly in the moonlight gold where it had once been pale. The mark on my ribs pulsed, and the swell of my belly flickered with that same inner light.

“She’s growing fast,” I whispered, brushing my fingers over the curve.

“So are you,” he murmured.

I looked up at him. “Does it scare you?”

He stepped closer, slowly, like a wolf stalking heat.

“No,” he said, kneeling in front of me. “It consumes me.”

His hands slid up my thighs, rough palms against smooth skin. I parted my legs wider instinctively, craving his touch, aching for it. His mouth hovered near my belly, reverent, then lower, his breath teasing the sensitive spot between my legs.

“Maverick…” I whispered, breath shaky.

“You’ve been burning all day,” he said, his voice raw. “I could feel it from across the room. Your scent. Your magic. Your need.”

I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t.

He kissed the inside of my thigh slowly, then again, higher this time. My hips jerked, need coiling tighter inside me.

His eyes flicked up. “Tell me to stop.”

“Don’t you dare.”

That was all it took.

He surged forward, mouth hot and wet against me, tongue parting me as his fingers gripped my hips like he was anchoring himself to earth. I moaned sharp, involuntary. His tongue moved in slow, controlled circles, knowing exactly how to make my knees tremble, how to make my back arch.

“You taste like caramel,” he growled against me.

I laughed breathlessly. “You’re insane.”

“I’m starving.”

He devoured me like I was the last good thing in the world. Like he’d earned this. Like I was his to worship. And maybe I was. Right then, I wanted to be. My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging hard when the pleasure crested suddenly.

“I’m gonna…..Maveric”

He didn’t stop. If anything, he groaned like he wanted me to break apart on his tongue. And I did. My body shuddered violently, pleasure snapping like firecrackers down my spine, curling through my toes.

But he didn’t stop.

He kissed his way up my stomach, lips gentle now, reverent. When he reached the curve of my breast, he paused, eyes meeting mine.

“She’s strong,” he whispered, hand splayed over the glow of my belly. “But you… you’re a goddess.”

I pulled him up, lips crashing into his.

“Then worship me,” I breathed.

Clothes came off in a blur. His shirt was gone first, revealing the hard lines of muscle, the scars from battles past. I traced one on his chest with my tongue. He hissed, hands gripping my waist.

“You sure?” he asked.

“I’m starving too.”

He didn’t need more than that.

He lifted me effortlessly, laying me back against the soft pelts, body sliding over mine with heat and weight and purpose. The head of his cock nudged at my entrance, and we both gasped when he pushed in slow, thick, filling.

I clenched around him, pleasure spiking sharp.

“You’re tighter,” he groaned, pressing in deeper. “Hotter. Fuck…”

“I told you,” I gasped, nails digging into his back, “I’m burning.”

He started to move, slow at first. Deep. Purposeful. The kind of thrusts that weren’t just about sex they were about claiming. About love. About the kind of connection that couldn’t be broken.

His mouth found my neck, my jaw, my lips again. Every kiss set something else on fire.

I wrapped my legs around him tighter, rolling my hips to meet every stroke.

“You feel so good,” I whispered.

“You’re perfect,” he growled. “I want to stay inside you forever.”

My body pulsed with every thrust, magic humming between us. My mark glowed brighter, and his skin started to shimmer, too moonlight collecting in the curve of his back, the line of his jaw.

Then I felt it.

The baby.

She moved not just a kick this time but a ripple of power, warmth spreading from my belly through both of us.

Maverick froze, eyes wide.

“Did you feel that?” he whispered.

“She’s… responding to us.”

He swallowed hard, leaning down to kiss my belly even while still inside me. “Little flame. You’re safe.”

Something ancient stirred in me.

A force older than the Council. Older than packs. A fire meant to burn down everything false and rebuild it from ash.

“Maverick,” I breathed, arching up. “Don’t stop. I need this. I need you.”

His hands tightened on my hips. “I’ve got you.”

He started to move again faster now, deeper. Sweat beaded between us, his rhythm relentless. I moaned louder, the sound echoing off the stone walls. His teeth grazed my collarbone, his groan deep and primal.

“I love you,” he said suddenly.

My heart stuttered.

He pulled back, eyes searching mine. “I know you’re not ready to say it. But I need you to know. I love you, Maggie. All of you. The flame, the fury, the child. I want this. You.”

I stared at him, trembling from more than pleasure now.

“I think I’ve been falling since the day I woke up in that cabin,” I whispered. “I was just too afraid to admit it.”

He leaned down again, forehead pressed to mine.

“Then fall.”

And I did.

Right there, with him inside me, with the child between us glowing and alive, I let go of everything else. My body clenched around him, wave after wave crashing through me, and he followed thrusting once, twice more before his body tensed and he spilled into me with a raw, broken sound.

We collapsed into each other, tangled in heat and sweat and breathless silence.

No lies. No secrets. Just us.

Much later, with my head on his chest and his arms around me, I traced the scar on his shoulder.

“Do you think she’ll be like me?” I asked softly.

“No,” he said, brushing hair from my face. “She’ll be stronger.”

I smiled. “Then the world better get ready.”

He kissed my temple. “Because we’re going to burn it down?”

“No,” I said. “Because we’re going to remake it.”

And as the moon dipped lower, and the child between us stirred gently, I realized something I hadn’t dared believe until now:

We weren’t just surviving.

We were becoming.