And with one woman he loved beside him, searching for the other he had lost, Tristan felt loved, accepted. Whole. And he would go through it all, over again, just for her.

She always held onto him. And with one woman he loved beside him, searching for the other he had lost, Tristan felt loved, accepted. Whole. And he would go through it all, over again, just for her.

“Break that promise,” he spoke, his voice soft as the underside of a blade, “and I will break mine.” “Which one?” Morana asked, her heart beating faster as the awareness of him shifting closer seeped through. He tugged her head up, arching her neck back, “To not destroy you.”

He was a smart guy but her brain was unlike any he had ever known, and it occasionally made him feel like an idiot. He didn’t mind that one bit.

“Morana: My vagina just became off-limits to you.   His reply came almost immediately.   Tristan: ?”

She yelled even louder - unashamed, unbound, unchained. She let herself feel deeper - uncaring, unhinged, unabashed. It was just a bike. It was just a ride. It was just a man. It just was.

She’d kissed his hands bathed in blood, touched his scars earned in pain, and looked at him to see only the man. She’d always been that way, his Morana.

“That day, when you were staring at her..." Zephyr trailed off, remembering that day so vividly. "She seemed familiar," Morana completed, leaning into Tristan's side. The man hadn't left her alone since she'd been discharged from the hospital.

The existence of Tristan was inseparable from Morana.

“How do you like to be fucked, Ms. Summers?” “She gave him a heated look from under her lashes and murmured in a low, sexy, just-fucked bedroom voice. “Like I’m going to feel it every time I walk.” Something flared sharply in his eyes for a second before it was gone.

The rain came down on the windows outside, thunder rumbling, and he leaned forward, telling her everything with his lips the only way he could. She held on to him. She always held onto him.

Holding onto his wet jacket, she sucked on his tongue, inviting him deeper, and got her lower lip nipped in response, the gun kissing her skin, sliding down from her jaw, down the slope of her neck, down her cleavage, to stop between her breasts. It stopped above her heart

Was he pointing his gun at her? Her chest grew heavy. Was he thinking it over? Lead settled in her stomach. Was he about to pull that trigger and end her misery? Was her last act on earth going to be putting her trust in the wrong man, yet again?

Dante finally smirked, turning to look at her, leaning against the window. “Are you two getting married?” Wait what? Morana looked at Tristan with wide-eyes, not knowing how to answer that question. Tristan shook his head. “Not until we find Luna.”

“Stay away from her, old man,” he warned “Come after her again, I’ll come after you. “Her pussy must be magical for you to… Before her father could finish that disgusting sentence, he was pinned back into his seat and Tristan punched him hard on his recently healed nose.

“He put the phone to his ear. “Trist...Tristan.”His heart stopped. She was breathing heavily. Why was she breathing heavily? “Morana,” his voice came out harsher than he’d expected, the tightness in his gut becoming rigid. “Talk to me.”“I’m—” heavy inhale “—shot.”

“I’m bleeding too fast, caveman,” the tremor in her voice almost shaking his balance. “No one gets to kill you,” he reminded her of the vow he’d cemented in their relationship. “When it comes to death—”“I’m yours,” she completed, “I... I don’t want to die like this.”

“I’m bleeding too fast, caveman,” she said, the tremor in her voice almost shaking his balance. “No one gets to kill you,” he reminded her of the vow he’d cemented in their relationship. “When it comes to death—”“I’m yours,”

“Break that promise,” he spoke, his voice soft as the underside of a blade, “and I will break mine.” “Which one?” Morana asked, her heart beating faster as the awareness of him shifting closer seeped through. He tugged her head up, arching her neck back, “To not destroy you.”