My hands fisted in his jacket, pulling him closer, deeper, until there was no space left between us. He tasted like whiskey and morning fog and something that had no name. I could’ve drowned in it.
Varyth groaned into my mouth, the sound low and wrecked, vibrating straight through me. His grip tightened at my waist, lifting me slightly.
“You don’t have to come to the meeting,” he murmured against my lips.
I blinked, dizzy from the taste of him. “I thought you wanted me there.”
“I did,” he said, “I do. But I made that decision before—” He stopped, his eyes fluttering closed on a shaky breath.
“You made the decision before… what?”
His eyes opened, and I saw it before he spoke. The edge. The fury.
“Before I had to let Ashterion look at you.” A downright feral snarl threaded through every word, like he might rip through worlds to erase Ashterion’s gaze from ever touching me.
I fought the urge to shove him. I wasn’t some fragile object to be hidden behind a High Lord’s temper and power. I’d certainly survived worse than a stare.
But a laugh slipped past my lips. Soft. Disbelieving. And a little breathless.
“Varyth,” I murmured, brushing a hand down his chest, my fingers catching slightly on the fabric of his jacket. “He’s not going to hurt me with a look.”
“I don’t care.”
My amusement warred with something darker. Something wary. “Do you plan to blind every male who looks at me?”
“If I could, I would.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I sighed, torn between rolling my eyes and pressing back into him until nothing else existed.
“And you’re maddening.” His hands tightened enough to remind me he could pin me, devour me—if I let him.
And gods help me, part of me wanted to.
The other part?
Still had a dagger tucked behind my spine.
I smirked up at him, voice low. “Good. Keep being mad. It suits you.”
His mouth crashed into mine.
I gasped, and he swallowed the sound greedily, one hand sliding into my hair and gripping tight, angling me exactly how he wanted.
My spine arched into him, instinct overriding thought, the heat between us sparking. I could feel the edge of his restraint in the way his fingers trembled where they gripped my waist, the way his teeth scraped against my lower lip.
He pulled back enough to drag in a breath. Then his mouth was on me again, tongue sweeping in. There was no room to think, no air to breathe that didn’t taste of him. I moaned into him, utterly shameless.
“Fuck,” Varyth muttered against my lips. Then he was gone from my mouth, only to trail his lips down. His breath scalded a path along my jaw, the tip of his nose brushing the curve of my neck.
And then,gods.
He bit. Hard enough to make me gasp, to make my knees buckle if he weren’t holding me. Hard enough tomark.
I arched into it, into him, a sound breaking from my throat that didn’t feel entirely human. His teeth sank just below my jaw, and I felt the bruise bloom there like a brand.
My fingers tangled in his hair as he licked over the bite, soothing it, then bit again, lower this time, where neck met shoulder—as if he couldn’t stand the thought of me not wearing him.
A throat cleared behind us.
