Through our newly forged bond, I sense her emotions unraveling with each landed blow—rage and grief swirling together in a chaotic symphony. Her carefully maintained control shatters, raw power surging through her strikes as she abandons restraint.
When she reaches for the clasps of her gown, I feel a surge of anticipation. The heavy black fabric slides from her shoulders, revealing more of her golden skin inch by tantalizing inch. The sight of her makes my mouth go dry. I swallow hard, imagining her delicate neck covered in my marks—and bearing my claiming bite.
The gown falls to her waist, and I'm momentarily transfixed. The silk shift beneath is nearly translucent, revealing the outline of her breasts; her body is lean, strong, decidedly more warrior than courtier. Small scars mark her golden skin—evidence of training far beyond what any diplomat's daughter should have. Each one is a question I will extract the answer to, eventually.
Something shifts in the air between us as the silk gown pools at her feet. The magic in the room grows thicker, more electric. Her light magic responds to my shadows, creating an intoxicating friction that makes my head spin.
As the remaining thin shift falls completely, her magic flares again, stronger this time, a wave of suppressed light that slams into me with enough force to push me back several steps. The pain is exquisite, searing across my skin where light meets shadow. Her eyes widen in disbelief as I remain standing, her rhythmic assault faltering for the first time. The realization that her power—usually so lethal—merely wounds me breaks through her blind fury.
Now she stands before me naked, chest heaving with exertion and confusion. I can't help myself, so I move toward her and take her into my arms. She tries to push me away, her sharp nails raking over my chest, breaking the skin. I hold her and then take her nipple into my mouth, sucking it hard as she still tries to fight.
"Get off me, I don't want this," she says, her voice vibrating with tension, but then I suck harder, pinching her other nipple until she moans loudly. Her desire pulses stronger than her words, and beneath the suppressants, I can detect the faintest hint of her natural scent beginning to break through—vanilla intensifying. I know she's pretending not to like this.
"Stop lying, Omega. I can feel exactly how aroused you are right now," I growl, then squeeze her left breast painfully hard, before taking the nipple into my mouth to bite it. The sounds she makes, half moan and half plea, make me want to end this foreplay and just thrust into her; it's torture to wait.
"No, no...no, don't," she pleads, while I mark her nipples with my teeth, then suck and play with each one, testing how long I can prolong this.
A moment later, she manages to pull away from me and then slaps me across the face. I pant heavily, staring at her magnificent body, chest rising and falling rapidly, and the look of disgust on her face.
"You won't have me! I will fight you until my last breath!" she spits.
I smile at her. My cheek stings, but my cock is leaking with arousal.
"The more you resist this, the harder you make my cock," I taunt her. I like being honest—maybe the marriage was a farce, but the chemistry between us is very real. As she steps back from slapping me, and before she can release another burst of magic, I lunge forward and tangle my hand in her hair, yanking her head back hard enough to be painful, exposing her throat. Her pulse hammers visibly beneath that delicate skin, right where her scent gland lies. Her eyes widen, but there's no fear in them, only hatred and something else, something that makes the bond between us pulse with unexpected heat. My desperate need to claim her breaks through my shadow magic's control. What is this sorcery? What is this light-bearer doing to me?
"You bastard!" she hisses, staring at me with daggers in her eyes.
"Gods above," I growl, suddenly breathless, wanting to be struck again by her light. The need to possess her completely, to mark every inch of her as mine, to sink my teeth into her scent gland and bond her permanently, overwhelms me with an intensity I haven't felt in decades. Not in over two hundred years, and even then, I never felt so powerless before any woman.
Before she can strike me again, I seize her by the throat, fingers digging into her flesh as I slam her lips against mine. Her lips are impossibly soft—a warrior's mouth that has no right to feel this good beneath mine. I force them apart brutally, my tongue invading the heat of her mouth, claiming territory like a conqueror. The coppery taste of blood floods between us as my teeth tear at her lower lip, not a gentle nip but a predator's bite. Her muffled cry of pain sends a surge of pleasure straight to my core. She fights back, nails clawing at my chest, but her resistance only feeds my hunger. My shadows strike like vipers, wrapping around her wrists and yanking them behind her back until I feel the satisfying strain of her shoulders. I tighten my grip on her throat, feeling her pulse race beneath my thumb as I restrict her air just enough to make her vision swim. The fear flickering behind her defiance is intoxicating, the perfect seasoning to her unwilling response as her body betrays her with an involuntary arch against mine. I could break her in an instant, and we both know it. The power is delicious.
Then something shifts. Her light magic roars against my shadows, creating an intoxicating friction wherever we touch. The kiss transforms, becoming hungry and violent in a way neither of us anticipated. I devour her mouth, tasting her fury, her grief, her unwilling response, pressing my hard cock against her core. I can feel her confusion, her self-loathing at her body's betrayal. She wants me, she can lie as much as she wants, but our connection is undeniable. She tastes of vanilla mixed with the salt of unshed tears; a heady combination that makes my head spin. I slow the brutal pace deliberately, dragging my tongue along the seam of her lips before plunging deeper, exploring every corner of her mouth.
“Darkness consumes me,” I finally breathe against her mouth, suddenly desperate for more. I haven't wanted anyone like this since my first mate—this all-consuming need to possess, to claim every part of her.
When I finally pull back, we're both breathing hard. A thin thread of blood stains her lower lip, and I have the sudden urge to see similar marks on her thighs, her breasts, and especially on her scent gland where my claiming bite will sit. Her eyes are full of hatred, so I move my hand down between her breasts, then lower, caressing the skin on her stomach. Seraphina shudders, but our eyes are locked as she tries to take control of her erratic breathing, there is still hatred in her eyes, but also arousal. I can smell it on her so I slide my hand lower, moving past her belly button, reaching her pubic hair. She gasps as I slowly rub my finger over her folds, caress the swollen bud at first, then ease my finger deeper. My cock goes rigid, blood drums in my ears when I realise how wet she is for me, Seraphina is already dripping for me, and I can't wait to taste that needy core of hers.
"Fascinating," I observe, my voice rougher than intended, nearly a growl. "The fated mate bond creates interesting...resonances."
I circle my finger over her clit, waiting to see if her control finally shatters when she suddenly spits in my face. "I'd rather die than let you use me like that."
The gesture should enrage me. Instead, it makes me laugh as I wipe the spittle away with the back of my other hand. Then I lift my finger that just caressed her swollen clit to my mouth and slowly lick the evidence of her arousal, my tastebuds exploding with the sweetness of her scent. Her eyes widen, tracing the movement of my fingers as I lick every single drop off with deliberate slowness, immersed by her scent. It’s intoxicating, even muted by suppressants.
"Fortunately for me, your preferences are irrelevant."
I propel her backward toward the bed, shadows wrapping around her wrists when she tries to strike me. She kicks out, landing a surprisingly powerful blow to my thigh that would have brought a lesser Alpha to his knees. I respond by lifting her body and throwing her onto the mattress.
Her golden skin seems to glow with internal light as she lands on the black silk. Her body is a revelation, all lean muscle and subtle curves, nothing like the soft court Omegas I've bedded before. Battle-ready, dangerous. Mine.
"Stop fighting what you can't change," I tell her, pinning her beneath me, my weight pressing her into the mattress. "The bond must be completed. It's already affecting both our magics. You're not a virgin, so you can take my cock. Can't you?"
Her eyes gleam with malice as she delivers what she clearly believes will be a devastating blow to my pride. "Take me, but you will never have me like Asher had," she spits, her eyes gleaming with deliberate cruelty.
My shadows darken, pulsing with a jealous rage that momentarily steals my breath. Unbidden images flood my mind—her beneath another Alpha, giving herself willingly, passionately, perhaps even taking him by choice. A savage possessiveness claws through me, twisting my features before I can mask it.
A fleeting smile curves her lips as she watches the damage her words inflict. For one unguarded moment, satisfaction brightens her face, the look of a warrior who has finally found her opponent's weak spot and driven her blade deep.
After several long moments, I force myself to recover, my lips stretching into a dangerous grin that doesn't quite hide the lingering fury in my eyes.
