“They went to get food from the feast.” Thorn’s voice came from behind me, and I knew instantly who was caring for me.
He liked to do that, after he’d had his wicked way with me. I smiled into Altair’s smooth, muscular, snoring chest. Thorn tapped my thigh and I rolled off Altair, opening my thighs so Thorn could clean me more thoroughly.
“Old man, hmm?” he teased, his eyes skating over my body, inspecting me. “Looks like we wore out at least one of your younger mates.”
“Mmhmm,” I hummed, unable to move. “You know none of us will grow old now. At least not very quickly.” The bond hummed inside us all, linking our life spans with Icarus’s. In quiet moments like this, when I thought about it, I could feel a vibrant, unflagging connection between us… and a less immediate, but tangible connection to the people of Havira as well.
“That’s good,” he said. “I’ve spent the past four years planning all sorts of terrible, wonderful things to do to this body.” The cloth moved between my legs in a way that felt less like cleaning, and far more titillating. “I’ve made plans that could take years to carry out.”
“Years?” I repeated, as he lay beside me and stroked my hair back from my face. I let my hands do the same, tracing his scar, brushing his hair back. How had I managed to keep from touching him for all those years? Thank the Goddess I never had to do so again.
I still couldn’t believe I was here, with him, my first love. With all my loves. “You’ll stay with me, with us, for all those years? Centuries, even?”
He nodded again, and I saw certainty in his eyes. Gold glinted in the depths of his gaze, revealing love, but also calculation. Obsession.
I didn’t care. I wanted it all. For now, and... “Forever, Thorn?”
He laced his fingers in mine, and whispered in my ear before we fell back onto the bed together and made love again. “Little queen, I promise.”
