The silence stretches.
Emma’s resolve starts to crack. I can feel it, her worry and inner turmoil beginning to rise and overwhelm her.
“I will fight with you.” Tristano comes from behind us and walks down the steps then turns and takes a knee. “My queen.”
“I will fight with you, my queen.” Charen joins Tristano, the two of them on their knees.
But they aren’t enough. I can still feel the bated breath, the distrust from my nobles.
“I will fight with you, my queen.” I lower myself beside her, my crown blazing pure white light as I stare up at her.
She looks at me with such love that our bond seems to sparkle with a thousand sun flares, and she sends a quiet ‘thank you.’
A few more beats of silence, and then the dam breaks. One noble after another drops to their knee and pledges fealty to Emma.
She is radiant, a blinding light despite her darkness. When the entire room has pledged their oath to her, the magic seals between them.
Her promise to fight. Their promise to follow. My promise to forever honor my queen.
I rise and pull her into my arms, then kiss her with the passion befitting a mate like mine.
Tristano starts up a cheer, and the nobles join—reluctantly at first—until the entire room is a cacophony of congratulations and yells for the realm.
“Ready?”
“As long as I’m with you, I’m ready for anything.” She wraps her arms around my neck, and I lift her, carrying her back into my chambers.
“My lord, the battle—”
“Can wait just a moment. I need to worship my queen.” I lay her on the bed and prowl over her, my feral desperate to claim her once more. Leaning down, I snag my fangs on the shoulder of her dress and rip it down, making good on my threat.
Her breasts are bared to me, and I suck her nipple into my mouth. I could live on the taste of her, the dusky sweetness that lives in her skin.
A little cry escapes her, and she hikes up her gown as I free my cock. “I suppose we should consummate our what, our wedding?” she asks breathily.
“That wasn’t a wedding.” I kiss to her mouth and notch my cock at her entrance. “When we return, I will instruct Brock to plan the most outrageous wedding the realm has ever seen.” Without warning, I thrust inside her, my entire body desperate to feel every bit of her.
“Solano,” she gasps and digs her claws into my shoulder, shredding my tunic.
“I like it when you say my name, my queen.” I thrust hard and slow, taking her bit by bit until we’re both sweating and panting, our need twining together and sparkling like a fuse.
“I want you to come, Emma. Your first royal orgasm, right here on your king’s cock.”
She moans. “Filthy fae.”
I tongue her mouth, savoring her taste as I thrust and thrust until her body seizes and she begins to squeeze me so perfectly. Her moan is my undoing, and I release inside her, coating her with me as I relish every bit of her pleasure floating down the bond.
When I’m spent, I rest my head beside hers on the pillow.
She wiggles her hips. “Another one for the road?”
I meet her gaze. “Why, you wanton little—”
“My lord?” A hard knock on the door, and Brock’s voice carrying through.
“We’re coming,” Emma calls with a wicked grin.
“AndI’mfilthy?” I kiss her again. Brock will have to wait. The entire realm, and the war, and Eraldon will all have to wait if my mate commands it.
