“Roark.” Memories of his touch, his kiss, the rough, low gasps he’d breathed against my skin, collided when his sharp eyes found me.
Roark held up a hand, then went to the chamber door, turning a brass key until the lock clicked. In three long strides, he had me in his arms. I clung to his waist, biting down on my bottom lip to muffle the fear.
“What is happening out there?” I pressed my forehead against his chest.
Roark’s palm cupped the back of my head, holding me to his heart for a long silence. He led me to the chaise and laced our fingers together before he spoke.
The wedding vows are now set for tomorrow evening.
I bit down on the inside of my cheek. “How are Thane and Yrsa?”
Prepared.Roark’s knee started to bounce.Lyra, for added protection, Damir has ordered you to meld every Stav, me included, with the lot of his soul bone store. Every bone.
Do not take the bones. “He knew.” I closed my eyes, my grip tightened on Roark’s hand. “Skul Drek was here.”
He looked at me, befuddled.
“He…he can’t be a man. He was there and gone, like a damn haunt.” I leaned onto my knees and buried my face in my palms. “He told me not to take the bones. He knows. That means ravagers know.”
Roark used one knuckle to tilt my chin.Ravagers are not the threat. It is the bones. That many will kill you.
My blood chilled. Roark didn’t spare my fears. It was frightening and refreshing to be trusted with the vicious truth rather than sweetened omissions. He admitted his fear for what melding would do, fear for the retaliation from Dravenmoor.
It won’t happen, Lyra. One palm pressed against my cheek.
“There isn’t an escape from it,” I said, voice small. “Where am I to go?”
Roark’s jaw worked in tension. He shook his head, his thumb tugging on my lip.I don’t know yet. But I will not let him touch you.
His words lanced through me, sharp as a blade. The Sentry, fealty melded to the heir of Stonegate, was speaking of desertion, of treason. As a Draven, to commit such crimes against Stonegate would most assuredly mean a brutal death for Roark Ashwood.
I kissed him. I kissed him with a frenzy and passion that felt wild and out of control. Roark wasted no time in claiming me back. He tugged on my waist, pulling me over him so my thighs straddled his lap. The crescent moon of his Sentry sword dug into my skin. He made quick work of ridding himself of the bearded ax and seax with the clang of heavy metal against the wood floors.
I was frantic. He was desperate.
Hands tugged at clothes, at laces, and belts, until his length was deep inside me. I braced my hands on his shoulders, using him as a ballast as I lifted slightly, then sat back over his cock. Roark’s gasp was hot against my neck. He guided my hips with his palms and rocked against me.
I pinned him to the chaise with my body, using my movements, touch, and kiss as a sort of command to the Sentry to give over his control, the worries crushing his spine. Brow strained, Roark let me.
His head fell against the back of the chaise, and his bleary eyes watched as I writhed and bucked over him.
I took my time, adjusting to the fullness of him.
Those molten eyes locked with mine. His callused palm glided up the curve of my waist, the divots of my ribs, until he palmed the whole of one breast.
I bowed my spine, pushing into his palm. Roark pinched andtugged at my nipple, then adjusted on the sofa and took the other side between his lips, sucking and licking until the peak hardened.
I cried out his name when he rolled the tip between his teeth while his fingers worked the other. I rocked against him, gasping when he bucked, striking a new depth.
Heat pooled low in my belly.
My head fell back, his name cascading over my tongue again and again; my body shuddered through my release.
Roark gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him again. The heat of my pleasure still throbbed in my core, but when I followed his gaze down, looking at us joined together, watching as his length still moved in and out, I thought I might lose myself again.
My arms rested on his shoulders, but I gripped the back of the sofa, keeping my head down so I would not miss a moment.
Roark’s breaths were hot against my neck. One hand gripped my waist, holding me in place as he deepened his thrusts. Each motion shifted the wooden legs of the sofa a little more, wood scraped over wood. We didn’t stop, didn’t slow.
