Page 142 of Demon’s Snack

“That introduction always alarms me.”

“Fair.”

She turns toward me then, giving me her full attention.

The bond warms.

I stop trying to make the words clever.

“You are my mate.”

Her breath catches, softly enough that no one else in the yard hears it.

I keep going before fear can make me gentle in the wrong direction. “I am done pretending distance makes this safer. I am done acting like keeping my hands off you proves restraint. What proves restraint is standing beside you without letting Vaerith aim me. What proves choice is touching you because you want me there, not because the bond drags me forward.”

Her eyes shine in the dusk, sharp and unreadable.

“I am not property,” she says.

“I know.”

“I am not a stabilizing device.”

“I know.”

“I am not your clause, your answer, or your reward for behaving well under pressure.”

“I know that too.”

She steps closer, and her voice lowers. “If you want me, you want me as partner. In private, in public, in whatever room Vaerith tries to turn into a stage. I will not be hidden behind your body like a rescued object.”

“I will stand beside you.”

“Not in front of me unless blades require it.”

“Isolde.”

Her eyes narrow. “Corin.”

I laugh under my breath. “Fine. Beside you until blades require otherwise.”

“Acceptable.”

“That was easier than expected.”

“It was not a negotiation. It was terms.”

I reach for her hand slowly enough that she can decide every inch of it. She meets me halfway, fingers sliding through mine with firm, deliberate pressure.

The bond steadies like a clasp locking shut.

The hunger settles completely into the rhythm between us. It remains dangerous, hot, and mine, but it no longer claws at the edges of every breath.

“So,” she says, her voice quieter now. “Mate.”

“Mate.”

“You said that very confidently.”