Page 68 of Examining the Bond

“But what if I don’t come back?”

I have no idea what the academy is going to say when they find out I’m a delta. I might not be allowed to leave again until I receive a bite from an alpha.

Hell, I might not even be able to attend once they find out what I am.

In that case, I’ll have to get a job and find a place to live. I won’t be able to just leave everything and fly across the country at the drop of a hat. It could be months before I see her again, and the thought of waiting so long drives a painful spike deep into the center of my chest.

“You will,” she assures me. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it, preciosa. Everything is going to be fine.”

Again, it’s not what I want to hear, but I still don’t want to ruin the mood.

I want to enjoy what’s left of my limited time with her, instead of throwing a fit and demanding she define our relationship. It’s not that I want to put a label on it. I just want to know if she expects anything more than us fucking in a mildly shitty hotel room.

Instead of arguing, I lean to press my lips against the hollow of her throat, smiling at the way she stiffens. She groans as Itease my tongue over her skin, a rumble rolling in her chest that has slick pooling between my thighs again.

“What happened to tapping out?” She chuckles as her hand slides down to grab my ass.

“I’m just teasing.” I kiss the hard muscle of her shoulder.

“I don’t think you know the power you have over me, Riann Saunders.” Her voice is low and rumbly, and I know I’m seconds away from starting something that’ll have me crying out and coming in minutes flat.

I open my mouth to say something, but my mind goes fuzzy. At first, I think it might be the exhaustion setting in—after all, we’ve been going at it for hours, and my body probably needs a break.

However, an intense urge to push Skylar hard into the mattress swoops in out of nowhere. Instead of wanting to snuggle up against her, I want to toss her around the way she did me earlier. I want to sink my teeth into her to make her mine.

The urge is so unexpected that it gives me pause and leaves me a little flustered.

Maybe it’s all the emotions mixed with my anxiety about leaving tomorrow.Or maybe I just need to get some sleep.

I shake away the thought of pinning Skylar to the mattress and look up to meet her gaze.

“Not enough power for you to let me to touch you, obviously.” The words come out with an edge that has Skylar tensing against me. “Not enough power for you to want me to stay.”

The air between us thickens until it’s hard to choke down a single breath. I don't understand what's happening, but my heart lurches when my thoughts grow even foggier.

Skylar stares at me, her jaw hard and her brows furrowed, and the urge to growl tickles the back of my throat. It doesn’t make sense, and even as the thought crosses my mind, I know it’s wrong.

But I can’t help it.

The urge is there, swelling in me, making me uncomfortable the longer she watches me.

“I didn’t say I don’t want you to stay,” she says slowly, her stare growing more intense, like she’s trying to see straight into my brain and figure out what’s wrong with me. “But it’s not that simple. You can’t just uproot your entire life and move to Boston.”

I bristle at her words.

Why is she being so stubborn? She says I can’t abandon my life to move here, but I would in a heartbeat if she asked. I would leave it all behind and build a new life here with her. But the way she’s acting, assuming I won’t bend over backward for the chance to be close to her, has the restless force in me morphing into frustration.

I clench my teeth.

Maybe she doesn’t want me as badly as I thought after all.

At least, not as much as I want her.

My nails dig into my palms, the pain slicing through my hazy thoughts. For a moment, I’m able to think clearly.

I bite my bottom lip to keep it from wobbling, and Skylar softens against me. She pumps her scent into the air to calm me, but the depression in my chest grows heavier. Her scent is delicious and amazing, but it’s not what I need more of right now.

I need her words, her reassurance. I need her to be open and vulnerable the way I’m trying to be. I need to know exactly what she’s thinking, but it still feels like there’s a carefully constructed wall between us. Like she’s still clinging to a thin layer of professionalism to avoid the messy, painful, emotional bits.