Her body shakes against mine as years of maintained control finally crack. "I didn't think this was possible. I thought I was unable to find anyone after—was too broken—" She takes a deep breath. "Promise me," she whispers, vulnerability raw in her voice. "Promise me this isn't temporary. That you won't—"
"Leave?" I tilt her chin up, letting her feel the depth of my devotion. "Never. You're carved into my soul now, little one. There's no going back. No walking away."
Millenia of rejection carved deep scars in her soul—her father's cruel dismissal, the prophecy's bitter truth, watching Rhyland find his true mate. Each blow convinced her she was unworthy of love, destined to stand alone. The thought of her suffering makes my blood boil, my beast raging against those who made her doubt her own worth.
Her pain mirrors my own dark reflections. How many years did I walk alone, convinced I was too broken, too damaged for this kind of connection? Both of us, warriors wearing our solitude like armor, telling ourselves we didn't need what our hearts desperately craved.
But now, holding her in my arms, I see the truth—we weren't meant to be alone. We were meant to find each other, two broken pieces fitting perfectly together.
Bryn melts against me, her curves fitting perfectly into every hollow of my body—her platinum hair spills across my chest like moonlight, and her breaths even out against my skin. I feel her contentment mingling with mine—a sense of rightness, of coming home after an eternity of wandering. My arms tighten around her instinctively, and my beast is finally at peace with its mate secured.
My fingers trace idle patterns across her back, ghosting over the smooth skin where her wings once stretched proud and magnificent. She trembles against me, and through our new connection, I feel the raw ache of loss—phantom pain where divinity once marked her as Valkyrie.
"You're more than your wings ever were, little bird," I murmur into her hair, sending waves of love and acceptance through our connection. "Your strength, your fierce heart—that's what makes you extraordinary."
I feel her consciousness dimming like a setting sun, peace finally replacing her earlier turmoil. I let my eyes drift closed, and my beast purrs contentedly as I follow my mate into slumber.
Danica
61
Sunlight streams through floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the pristine room in gold. I surface from sleep wrapped around Rhyland like a clingy octopus, my cheek pressed against the warm expanse of his chest. My fingers trace lazy patterns over his ribs, mapping the ridges of muscle I know by heart.
"Mmm..." I nuzzle closer, voice still thick with sleep. "Morning, Thunder Buns."
"Good morning, baby." His deep rumble vibrates through my body, sending delicious shivers down my spine. His hand finds my hip, squeezing possessively.
My leg is already draped over his naked waist, and there's no missing the impressive tent he's making in the sheets. "Well, well..." I smirk against his chest. "Looks like someone's ready to raid and pillage."
Rhyland chuckles, the sound dark and sinful. "I'm always ready to conquer your body, Angel."
Before I can fire back a sassy retort, Rhyland's mouth is on my skin, trailing scorching kisses down my throat. His teeth graze my collarbone, his tongue soothing the sting. Lower and lower he goes, mapping my curves with his lips until he reaches my breasts.
He takes one aching nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive peak. I arch into him, a needy moan escaping my lips. Heat pools between my thighs as he lavishes attention on my breasts, stoking the fire in my veins.
Lost in sensation, it takes me a moment to realize his touch feels different. The way his hands skim my sides, the pressure of his mouth—it's not quite right. Not quite...him.
Rhyland kisses his way back up my body, claiming my lips in a searing kiss. But the wrongness of it hits me like a bucket of ice water. This kiss...it's too practiced, too polished. Nothing like the raw, hungry way my Viking devours me.
I break away, my heart pounding for all the wrong reasons. My eyes search his face as a chilling realization settles in my gut.
This isn't my Viking.
"Rhyland, what's going on?" My voice trembles, confusion and fear warring in my chest. "Something's not right."
He cocks his head, a too-perfect smile curving his lips. "What are you talking about, baby? Everything's perfect." He reaches for me, but I flinch back.
"No, it's not. You're not...you." I search his face, desperate for some flicker of recognition. "Please, talk to me."
But he just shakes his head, that unsettling smile never wavering. "It's okay, Angel." His hands find my hips, dragging me beneath him again. "Just relax and let me make you feel good."
Before I can protest, he's kissing his way down my body again, his mouth hot and insistent against my skin. He nips at my hipbone, his tongue soothing the sting—until he's settling between my thighs.
"Rhy, wait—" But my words dissolve into a gasp as his mouth finds my core, his tongue delving deep. Pleasure sparks through me, my body responding even as my mind screams that this is wrong, wrong, wrong.
He licks and sucks, stoking the fire in my veins even as panic claws at my throat. My hands fist in his hair, torn between pulling him closer and shoving him away.
"Stop," I pant, my head spinning. "Rhyland, please..."
