Page 27 of The Bound Zodiac

“But here’s what you’re wrong about, Jupiter.” I raised an eyebrow. “The feelings were always real. The bond didn’t manufacture them. It amplified what was already there. I felt something for you the first time you walked into Convocation Hall, and it had nothing to do with magic. It had to do with the way you looked at me that first time. The way you didn’t flinch when Aiden tried to intimidate you. The bond made it impossible to ignore, but it damn sure didn’t create it from nothing.”

He moved closer, hand suddenly cupping my face, and my heart did something stupid and traitorous in my chest, hammering so hard I was sure he could feel it through his palm. His thumb traced the line of my cheekbone, and his violet eyes were dark, almost black in the dappled light.

“It could have been love,” he said. “It might still be love. I don’t know. I never got the chance to find out.”

My throat closed. I couldn’t speak. The bond between us was humming, singing, vibrating.

“Every day since you left, I’ve thought about what it would have been like. If we’d had time. If the bond had formed slowly, the way it’s supposed to. If we’d gotten to know each other properly. If I’d been brave enough to say what I was feeling instead of letting paranoia drown it out.” His thumb brushed the corner of my mouth, and I stopped breathing. “I think about it,” he whispered, “and it kills me. Because I’ll never know.”

The tears came without warning. Only two, making hot tracks down my cheek. Draco’s thumb caught one, wiping it away gently.

“Don’t,” I managed roughly. “Don’t do that. Don’t make it worse.”

I closed my eyes. His forehead pressed against mine, and the bond surged between us, bright and aching and so fucking alive it hurt.

“We have a lot of work to do,” I whispered.

“I know.”

“A lot.”

“I know, Jupiter.”

“And I’m still angry. I’m still so angry I can’t see straight some days.”

“I know that too.”

I opened my eyes, and I could see the flecks of silver in the violet. He looked tired, but so devastatingly beautiful that it hurt to look for too long.

“But I want to know,” I said after a long moment. “I want to know what it would have been like.”

His mouth was close enough that I could feel his breath against my lips. Close enough that all I’d have to do was tilt my chin and we’d be⁠—

I pulled back. Just an inch. Just enough. “Slowly…”

He nodded, hand dropping from my face, and the absence of his touch left a cold patch on my skin.

“Slowly,” he agreed, though he looked like he’d rather chew a handful of thorns.

We sat there for a while longer. The sun moved. The waterfall kept rushing. Noodle had gone back to sleep in the grass, apparently deciding that the emotional crisis had resolved itself sufficiently for him to resume his nap.

Eventually, Draco stood. He offered me his hand, and I took it, and he pulled me to my feet with that easy strength that always made my stomach flip.

“Kelpies,” he said, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re really going to waste a perfectly good afternoon chasing kelpies.”

“I’m going to find one,” I told him, brushing grass off my shorts. “And when I do, I’m going to name it after you.”

“Please don’t.”

“Draco the Kelpie. It has a ring to it.”

I grinned and turned to walk away, already planning my kelpie-hunting strategy for the next weekend, but his hand caught my wrist before I’d taken two steps. I pivoted to face him, ready with something snarky about personal space, and the words died in my throat.

His face had gone serious. The half-smile was gone, replaced by something rawer, hungrier, eyes gone dark as storm clouds. He pulled me toward him at the same time as he walked us backward, and my shoulder blades hit the rough bark of an oak trunk before I’d fully processed what was happening.

“You’re going to have to forgive me later for this,” Draco said, his voice rough over the roar of the waterfall, “because I can’t wait a fucking second longer to taste you.”

He kissed me like he’d been starving for it, like the months of distance and silence couldn’t hold back anymore, and the sound I made against his mouth was somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. My fingers sank into his hair, gripping tight, and he pressed me harder against the tree, one hand flat against the trunk beside my head, the other sliding around my waist. His mouth was hot, tongue sliding against mine, and I kissed him back with everything I had, every ounce of anger and want that had been festering in my chest since the day I’d walked out of Dominion.