Aislinn’s nostrils flare as she accepts the gift, her enhanced Lupine senses drawing in the purple rose’s intoxicating floral scent as well as that dry parchment smell that always thrills her archivist mind. She shyly forms a sharp claw on her index finger, easily snaps the twine, then morphs her claw back to a tapered fingernail and folds back the parchment.

A black tome marked with a lavender Xishlon moon is nestled inside, purple flowers painted on its spine and Noi lettering in silver foil embossed on the cover. Just below the book is a curious square of flat glass, framed by small Noi runes.

Aislinn’s pulse quickens as she realizes what this is. She places the glass over the book’s title and the Noi lettering instantly transforms into the Common Tongue.

Lavender Garden of My Heart.

Aislinn knows of this text—one of Noilaan’s classic collections of love poetry, read throughout Noilaan on Xishlon night.

“Oh, Jarod,” she breathes, meeting his loving gaze. “Thank you.”

Hugging the gift to her chest, she reaches up to take hold of his sinewy upper arm, stands on her tiptoes and kisses him, their lips lingering past a simple thank-you as Jarod’s arms wrap around her waist. Aislinn’s heartbeat deepens in her chest as that familiar spark of desire ignites in them both.

She wants to pull him into the purple forest and kiss him for hours. She wants to press her body closer to him, as close as she can...

Aislinn hesitates as Jarod draws back, looking at her searchingly as her familiar trepidation wrests hold, cutting into the lovely moment like a tight binding. She knows Jarod can read her growing desire as clearly as she can read his. But she also knows that Jarod is keenly aware that her strengthening physical draw to him is mixed up with so much trauma and anger over what Damion did to her that she fears it might keep them physically apart forever.

Aislinn’s breath shudders through her like the breeze coming off the Vo as Jarod releases her, now touching her only lightly on her arm.

Her brow tightens as she peers over the river, unable to meet Jarod’s gaze for a moment as glowing Xishlon runic orbs are released from a crowded ship in the near distance.

She wants Jarod more than she’s ever wanted him before, her desire further heightened by the ominous fact that war is closing in. And she desperately wants to be Jarod’s full mate before it does.

But every time she comes close to taking him, flashes of Damion Bane assault her mind. Aislinn winces as she struggles to beat back the dark memories that threaten to accost her even now. How Damion forced and humiliated her. The unspeakable, painful things he did. His cruelty. His bottomless cruelty.