“Say my name like that again, beautiful, and you will be staying more than just one night,” Thalion warned, taking a slow step closer to her.
“I cannot stay. You know that.”
He shook his head. “No. I know that you will not stay, not that you cannot. All you have to do is choose.”
“I have chosen,” she yelled, her perfectly held together composure finally cracking. The passion he knew lived inside of her came rushing out. “I’ve chosen to not pursue this foolishness. I’ve chosen to continue on the course set out for me. I am not an elf. I am a fae. I am not meant to stand at anyone’s side. I am meant to protect the weak. I was born to be a fae warrior, not the submissive, aristocratic wife of a prince.” Her breathing had increased as she grew more and more frustrated.
“Submissive?” Thalion said coolly as he felt his blood run cold. “Aristocratic? You really think I would ask you to change who you are or your purpose in life? I love you because of who you are!”
Cyn’s mouth dropped open. “You-you l-l-ove me?” Her voice was hoarse as her hand fluttered up to her throat. “That’s not possible.”
“Says who?” Thalion asked. His words were harsh as his anger rose inside of him. He couldn’t believe that she would think him so ridiculous as to want to take her from the things she obviously loved. Her passion for what she did was breathtaking to him and drew him to her. Maybe she wouldn’t resist him so much if he could make her understand just how precious she was to him.
“Thalion, we haven’t spent enough time together for you to love me,” Cyn reasoned.
“Exactly. Whose fault is that?” He could tell his words stung as she flinched away. “I understand your need to be in control of your emotions, Cyn, but to outright ignore them and deny my own, that I cannot abide.”
She didn’t respond. Her eyes seemed lost as she retreated into herself. Thalion wouldn’t let her off so easily. “Do you agree to the terms? You will stay one night with me.”
This seemed to snap her back to reality. She lifted her chin and met his stare. “And what is to happen if I do stay the night?”
“We will chase chickens and make soup,” Thalion said deadpan.
A small smile cracked her façade. “Why are you, you?” she asked in a weary whisper.
Thalion took this as her surrender. No matter how temporary it might be, she was his, at least for now. He walked over to her, quickly closing the space she’d put between them, and took her small face in his larger hands. “Stay with me.”
She nodded.
“Finally.” Thalion groaned before he pressed her lips to hers. It had been twenty-five years since he’d touched her, tasted her, or had the pleasure of her company, and he was thirsty for her.
Cyn’s arms reached up and wrapped around his neck, her hands tangling in his long hair. He felt her push herself closer and raise up on her toes as if she just couldn’t get close enough. She gasped when he pulled away, but he wasn’t done.
Thalion trailed his nose gently across her jawline and down her neck. Her flesh was petal soft and when his tongue darted out to taste it, he had to wrap an arm around her to support her weight as her legs gave out.
“So responsive,” he murmured against her collarbone.
Cyn let out a small squeak when Thalion scooped her up in his arms and began carrying her through the halls. He didn’t stop until he was before a large door where two guards stood. They pushed the door open and he kicked it closed, all the while pressing passionate kisses to her neck and shoulder. Thalion couldn’t get enough of her. He hadn’t realized how empty he’d truly been until she had returned to him.
He laid her on the bed and covered her smaller body with his own. His hair flowed over his shoulder, including the long braid, and he smiled when she reached up tentatively, biting her lip as she began to unbraid his hair. Thalion wondered if she understood just how intimate the act was. Just as feeding her from his hand would be intimate, so was the act of grooming one another. No female had ever touched his hair, and no other female ever would.
“I love your touch,” he admitted as he closed his eyes and let out a low hum. “Your small hands humble me.”
Cyn shook her head as she blushed. “I am nothing special. I do not understand why you would settle for a fae warrior.”
“I have already told you. I love you. I care not what race you are or what your craft is. All I care about is that you are mine.” Thalion slid a hand up her calf, thigh, and hip, gripping her waist as though to reiterate his words.
“Yours?” Cyn asked, her fingers still working their way through the strands.
He nodded slowly as his eyes dropped to her lips. They were swollen from his kiss and flushed. He liked to see her so well loved. He leaned down and, ever so lightly, brushed her nose with his own. When her lips parted in surprise, Thalion closed the distance and slipped his tongue into the warmth of her mouth. He lowered his body so that he was pressed more closely to hers. The heat of her seeped into him, and the groan that rumbled out of him reverberated through his chest against her. She shivered and he grinned against her mouth.
“Do you like the way I feel?” he asked her, his hand sliding up her waist, across her chest, until he could rest his hand lightly on her neck.
Cyn opened her eyes and stared up at him. Her chest rose and fell, inviting his gaze, but Thalion fought the urge to look down at her curves. He didn’t want to take things too far. How he was going to stop, though, he wasn’t sure. He did know that he would not bed her until she was officially his. Thalion refused to disregard something so precious in such a way.
“What are you thinking?” he asked her.
“I’m trying not to think.”
