The Lycan King’s Mark (Nevara) by Tiffanie L. Campbell novel Chapter 41

< CHAPTER 41 – The One That Fit

+25 Points

CHAPTER 41 – The One That Fit

Thoren

I didn’t mean to swat her ass.

Honestly.

It was instinct more than anything–some combination of proximity, comfort, and that growing magnetism between us that made my hand act faster than my damn brain. Just a little tap, barely more than a reflex.

But the second she jumped and turned to look at me, eyes wide, cheeks flushed… I knew.

I’d crossed a line I hadn’t planned on crossing.

Not yet, anyway.

But the look she gave me? That flash of surprise, followed by something softer–heat laced with curiosity

-I couldn’t regret it. Not even a little.

So I sat my ass down in the chair outside her dressing room and did the only logical thing a man could do

in that moment.

I waited for the fashion show.

And gods help me… I could’ve done it all day.

Each time she stepped out of that dressing room, it was like watching another layer of armor fall away. At first, she was hesitant–careful, like the floor might vanish beneath her heels. But the moment I whistled at that first dress, her shoulders eased a little. Her eyes brightened. And by the time she twirled in the third gown, she was smiling in a way I hadn’t seen before.

Free.

Unafraid.

And maybe it was selfish, but I wanted to keep seeing her like that.

Open. Unburdened.

Herself.

I leaned forward on my knees as she spun, watching the soft champagne lace catch the light. Every inch of her was poetry in motion–and I couldn’t look away.

Dress four was a disaster and we both knew it. The kind of mess only a shared laugh could fix. And it did. Her giggle lit me up from the inside, and I couldn’t help but shake my head like we were in some private

little world.

But it was the fifth dress that undid me.

I heard her voice before I saw her–soft, tentative.

< CHAPTER 41 – The One That Fit

“Can you come help me? I can’t get the zipper.”

I stood, too fast probably, and stepped inside.

+25 Points

She faced away from me, her hand braced at the small of her back–right where the zipper stalled just

above the curve of her ass.

And suddenly, breathing took a little more effort.

I took hold of the zipper with one hand, steadying myself with the other lightly against her hip. Her skin

burned under my touch, even through the thin fabric. I moved slow, dragging the zipper up inch by inch like

it might detonate if I rushed it.

But when I got to the top–I didn’t stop.

My hand… it just followed the path. Down the slope of her waist. The dip of her ribs. The sweep of her

silhouette. Until both my hands were resting on her hips, fingers splayed, grounding myself in the feeling of

her.

And the sparks.

Gods, the sparks.

She’d felt them too the other night–I remembered her voice, half–asleep in my arms, mumbling something

about being shocked. She thought it was static.

It wasn’t.

It was this.

Whatever this was.

I looked up and met her eyes in the mirror. And before I knew it, my hands had turned her to face me-

slow, gentle, intentional. Not rushed. Just drawn. Like gravity.

She didn’t resist.

Didn’t even blink.

When her gaze locked with mine, something in my chest pulled taut.

And then… she reached up.

Fingers brushing my jaw, light as breath.

She rose to her tiptoes.

That was all it took.

I bent to meet her–slow, steady, inevitable.

And kissed her.

Soft, sure, mouth brushing hers with a heat that had been waiting to burn for days. Weeks. Maybe longer. I

< CHAPTER 41 – The One That Fit

kissed her like a man trying not to ruin the very thing he wanted most.

And I pulled back sooner than I wanted to.

+25 Points

Not because I didn’t want more. But because I didn’t want to take more. Not without giving her space to

breathe. To choose.

She rocked back on her heels, eyes searching mine, lips still parted from the kiss.

“So…” she said lightly, her voice a little breathless. “Is that a yes for this dress?”

I huffed a laugh. “That’s a fuck yes for this dress.”

She giggled–bright and warm–and gods if it didn’t punch me straight in the chest.

I turned to leave, but she caught me with a sharp little “Wait! Unzip it.”

I smirked. “Can’t have you breaking royal law.”

I undid the zipper, resisting the urge to let my hands linger again. And then I stepped out, dragging my fingers through my hair, trying not to smile like a complete idiot.

We bought everything we liked. Plus three pairs of shoes. One pair she swore she’d never wear because they were “ankle–snapping death traps,” but I insisted she had to at least try.

And then we just… wandered.

Four hours in the mall.

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