I screamed, hands fisting in the sheets as he drove deep, filling me so completely it burned in the best, filthiest way. He didn’t pause. Didn’t give me a second to breathe.
Every thrust drove me forward on the bed, his hand stayed pressed between my shoulder blades, keeping me down, keeping me his. I was panting, moaning, begging, and he was grunting through gritted teeth, pace vicious, rhythm merciless.
“Tell me who you belong to,” he growled.
“You,” I sobbed. “You—fuck—I’m yours.”
The way hegroaned shattered something inside me.
My climax hit like awave breaking. A full-body convulsion that tore the air from my lungs. Iscreamed, hands slipping on the sheets, thighs shaking, pleasureobliteratingme from the inside out.
Varyth cursed violently, hips jerking as my body clamped down around him. Then he snarled, slamming deep one lasttime and spilling inside me, his release hot and pulsing, flooding me so deep I could feel it dripping already.
He stayed like that—pressed tight against me, buried to the hilt, shaking with the force of it.
His breath was ragged, mouth moving against my shoulder like he was whispering prayers. Or curses. Or my name, over and over again like it was the only thing he remembered how to say.
We stayed there, locked together, ruined and breathless and trembling in the aftermath. And when he finally eased back, pulling out with a groan that made my toes curl, he didn’t let me fall. Didn’t let me collapse. He pulled me against him instead, arms wrapping around me from behind, lips pressed to the nape of my neck.
“I have to leave for the war camps later today.”
The words hit me like cold water, shattering the warm cocoon of contentment I’d been drowning in. I went rigid against him, every muscle in my body suddenly coiled tight.
“What?” I twisted in his arms, turning to face him so fast our noses almost brushed.
“There’s been movement on our border with Nyxaria.” His hand slid up to cup my cheek, thumb tracing the line of my jaw like he was trying to memorise it. “Darian, Fenric, and Lincatheron left yesterday, but I need to visit the camp today.”
The possessive warmth that had been curling in my chest turned jagged. “Movement. What kind of movement?”
“The kind that requires immediate attention.” His tone was diplomatic. The one he used when he didn’t want to tell me the whole truth.
I pulled back further, putting space between us that felt like a chasm. “How long will you be gone?”
“A few days. Maybe a week.”
A week. A week of sitting in this castle, playing house while he dealt with whatever crisis was brewing on the border. A weekof being protected and sheltered and kept safely away from anything that mattered.
Fuck that.
“I want to go with you.”
The words were out before I’d even finished thinking them, but I didn’t take them back. Couldn’t. The fire in my chest was already burning hotter, feeding on the familiar sting of being left behind.
Varyth’s expression shuttered immediately. “Absolutely not.”
“Why?” I sat up fully, the sheets pooling around my waist. “You brought me to the meeting with Nyxaria’s delegation. You said you wanted me there because I was clever, because they wouldn’t know what to do with me.”
“That was different.”
“How?” My voice was getting sharper. “How is this different, Varyth?”
He sat up too, running a hand through his hair. “Because a war camp isn’t a diplomatic meeting. It’s dangerous, unpredictable?—”
“And I’m what, too fragile to handle it?” The black fire was stirring now, responding to my anger. “Too weak? Too human?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what you meant.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed, suddenly needing distance from him. From the way he was looking at me like I was something that might shatter if he breathed wrong. “You need to trust me with the rest of this, Varyth. Not just the pretty political theatre. The real shit.”
