By choice.
The single syllable leaves me a quivering mess. And I’m not left with time to linger on the thought as his lips demand mine, draining my mind of logic. Desire races through me once again and I moan.
He breaks our kiss with a laugh.“I’m not finished making you sing.”
It’s then I notice he’s moving through the arboretum, headed toward the hall and my eyes shoot wide.
“Ryc, what are you—”
“It’s a short walk to your quarters and you could use the few minutes to rest.”His amused gilded stare meets my incredulous one.
“So you’re going to—”
“We,”he corrects with a grin.
“Streak through the castle—”
“Our castle.”His grin grows.
“For all to see?”
“It’s tradition to carry your wife over the threshold of the home,”he says and my heart leaps into my throat.
There’s that word again.
“Wife.” The word leaves me in a heaved breath.
“Wife.” He nods.
The way it sounds when he says it leaves me dizzy.
A few heads turn in our direction drawn by our outburst and immediately eyes widen. With the utmost haste, many rush from the hall, their stares lowered to their feet. Their reactions cut through my shocked haze.
“I doubt this is done sans clothing,husband,”I laugh wildly, emphasizing the title with a teasing sneer.
He pauses, his eyes racing to mine.
Pressing his forehead against mine, he releases a shuddering breath.
“Yourhusband,” he corrects with an impish grin.
He sets off once again.
As Ryc enters the grand foyer, glass shatters and gasps cut through the air. Burying my face in my hands and laughing without restraint, I curl into his chest, bracing to hear more aghast shrieks as Ryc carries Erus’ Sovereign Queen across the threshold.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Magelights spring tolife the instant my door swings open.
Flying upright, clutching the comforter to my chest, I shield my eyes against the sudden assault of light. Through slitted vision and splayed fingers, I witness a stream of castle staff flood into the room.
Oraphia stands at the door, holding it open, a beaming smile upon her face. Upon entering, Raevi takes the lead, carrying a heavy-looking wooden box. Castle staff follow, their hands filled with various things—bolts of black and white fabric, flowers, silver trays…
They scatter heading in different directions throughout my quarters as Raevi sets the box upon the table near the balcony doors.
Beside me, Ryc rolls on to his side, laughing. The sound grows muffled as he buries his face into his pillow. Sparks of his sheer amusement dart through our bond.
“Oraphia,” I call, my voice encumbered with sleep. “Oraphia, what in the nine hells is happening?”
