I’m behind her in an instant, mouth at her neck, claws pricking through my fingertips.
“You made it so far,Saelûn.Thrae’vesin kai’narh.” (Almost escaped me.)
I pin her against the banister, her chest flattens against the frost-laced wood, breath fogging the surface.
One of my hands fists the hair at her nape, the other presses to her lower back, holding her in place.
She’s so thrahking hot I can feel it burning through her shirt—her heat is starting to take hold.
Her hips writhe. “Thal’vesin, Saelûn,”I murmur against her ear. (Be still, soulmate.)
The vines obey, curling around her inner thighs, spreading them wider with agonizing slowness, holding her open for me.
Thalûn,help me.
I can see everything. The way her body trembles. How wet she already is—slick and glistening,vaelissûndripping down her inner thighs. Her skin is flushed pink, radiating so much heat that makes myeirvaenhum in response. I’m the only thing cold enough to soothe her. (frost magic.)
My claws dig into the banister, wood cracks beneath my grip. The scent of her, sweet and desperate, floods my lungs until I can barely think past the hunger clawing through me.
She’s trembling so hard the vines have to tighten to keep her steady. Her hips roll, seeking friction... seeking me,
“Kaemorin,” I rasp, barely holding back. “Keep fighting, and I’ll bend you over this railing and let the forest hear how sweetly you beg.”
I lean in closer and whisper just above her ear, “Say the word, Saelûn. One word and I’ll stop. I’ll cut you free. I’ll let you go, even if it breaks me.”
She doesn‘t tell me to stop. Instead, she turns her head and bares her throat.
The air bends around me as frost curls from the floor, spiraling up my arm in silver ribbons of ice.
This time, I shape it differently. Longer and smoother, not a blade, a gift for my mate. “Luvar’kael ves’morin,” I murmur. (Pleasure made from me for you alone.)
The icicle curves as it forms, humming faintly with the magic in my bones. Cold coats its tip, but heat pulses deep within.
I run a palm down its length, dragging my eirvaen through the center until it pulses like a heartbeat.
“I’ll stop,” I rasp, pressing the weight of my body against hers. “But this is your last chance, Lumi. Tell me now."
Silence. Not a single thrahking word.
“Kaelrin veskae, saelûn.” (The gods are watching, mate.)
I slide the ice slowly down her back. I pause at the base of her spine.
“Tell me,” I murmur.
She groans. “Tell you what?”
“Tell me who I am to you.Vraksûn ael’thra ves kaemorin.”(Speak the old tongue and mark me yours.)
"Really, Andrik? Now?” She whines.
My jaw tightens. Internally, I howl in frustration. I let her watch as the icicle falls and shatters on the stairs below us, ice fractals like crystals against the wood.
“Wanna try again?” I ask—the beast inside purrs with satisfaction.“Kael’vesin narh ves’thra, saelûn.”(I have all the time in the world for this, mate.)
Iridescent flurries swirl around my wrist until I have another icicle in my palm. She watches it form, and I feel her pulse spike through the bond.
“Well, I’m waiting?” I murmur, dragging the tip between her thighs. My other hand stays braced on her back.
