Page 51 of Charged By the Razorbacks

And he did.

He held her there, guided her through it, not letting her fall apart too quickly, not letting her lose herself before he was ready for it.

Her body tightened, her breath catching as the edge hit fast, too fast, her control breaking completely as she let go, her release rolling through her hard and deep, her voice catching as she lost herself in it.

His control held just long enough to carry her through it, to push her just past the point where she thought she could take it before he let go himself, his breath breaking as he followed her over.

For a moment—everything stilled. Then the rest of the world disappeared again.

****

“You’re overcooking it.”

Jarek didn’t look up from the pan, just flicked the utensil once, turning the meat with more force than necessary. “I’m not overcooking it.”

Aleksy leaned back against the counter, arms folded, watching with that steady, irritating calm that said he was absolutely right and didn’t need to push it.

“It’s been on too long.”

“It’s been on exactly as long as I want it to be,” Jarek shot back, then glanced over his shoulder. “And since you’re not cooking—”

Aleksy’s mouth curved faintly. “I would, if you let me.”

“Not happening.”

“Then accept the feedback.”

Jarek snorted, but the edge wasn’t there. Not really. The kitchen was warm, the low light from the apartment settling into something quiet, something that didn’t belong to missions or Chimera or the constant hum of threat that had followed them for weeks.

For once—it felt like something else.

He rolled his shoulders once, letting the tension ease as he plated the food, the rhythm of the task grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected.

Aleksy moved then, stepping in to grab plates without being asked, setting them out with practiced efficiency.

“You thought about it?” Jarek said finally. “About her accepting the mate bond?”

Aleksy didn’t pretend to know what he meant. “Yes.”

Jarek glanced at him, leaning back against the counter, crossing his arms. “And?”

Aleksy set the last plate down, his attention shifting—not away, but inward. “She has to. We can’t do life without her.”

Jarek huffed a quiet breath. “That’s one way to put it.”

Aleksy’s gaze lifted, steady. “You disagree?”

“No,” Jarek said after a second. “I just think that’s underselling it.”

That settled something in Jarek’s chest he hadn’t realized was still tight.

“She’s everything,” he said quietly.

Aleksy’s gaze held his. “You’re not concerned?”

Jarek barked a quiet laugh. “About what?”

“That she may not choose it. Choose us.”