Emillie yanked her fangs free to cry out Luce’s name as she climaxed. As her sex tensed, Luce navigated her hand between their bodies and plunged her fingers back inside to stroke her through the release.
“That’s it,” Luce praised, pumping her fingers with every pulse. “I have wanted to feel you come for weeks. You feel so good…” Only when Emillie’s body relaxed back into the mattress again did Luce slide herself free, sucking the wet from her fingers again with a hum of approval. “And you taste amazing.”
A small laugh bubbled up from Emillie, and Luce raised a questioning brow at her. “I should be the one saying that to you.”
A wicked smirk curled Luce’s plump lips. “You’re welcome to indulge anytime.”
“Well, then.” Emillie brushed her mouth across the lycan’s. “Why not untie me and lie down so I can do so right now?”
The smirk broke into a wide smile. Luce pushed herself up from the bed, pulled the ties free from Emillie’s wrists, then stepped back to where Emillie had sat not long before. She propped herself at the edge of the mattress, spreading her thighs wide. “Then crawl to me.”
And, damn her, Emillie fell to her knees without question.
Chapter 14
Ariadne had never before been in the war room. Never wanted to be there until now. The raised map of Myridia spread out along the length of the table where she sat at its head. When she had attempted to sit to Azriel’s left, he scoffed and dragged another chair to fit at the narrow end. Then he sat her in the large throne, taking the smaller seat for himself.
No one said a word as they filed in to see her in his place. In fact, each member of the makeshift council paused to pay their respects to her before turning to Azriel and doing the same. None more so than the dhemon woman, Thorin, who dropped to her knees before her and pressed her forehead to her hand.
When she asked Azriel about it, he said, “Word has been spreading amongst the dhemons about how you risked your life for the ritual. This will not be the last you see of this respect.”
She frowned at him. This was the first she had heard about it. Whelan, she knew, had not mentioned it—not when he still held a grudge for having been hauled out of the battle prematurely.Likewise, Lhuka had not stayed long enough to know she had ever been in any true danger. And Azriel had been unconscious for half the week since their return. “Who would have done that?”
Her husband raised his brows as though shocked by the confusion. “Ehrun.”
Any follow-up question died on her lips as the door opened again, letting in Edira and Luce. The former, representing the latest high fae to reachAuhla, had her hair hanging mostly loose around her shoulders and wore a long tunic with trousers. The latter had on her usual clothing but walked with a lighter step and less tension than Ariadne could remember from before. They both placed a hand over their heart and inclined their heads to them both before seating themselves at the remaining two chairs.
Azriel inclined his head to them both. “Welcome, Edira of the high fae and Luce of the lycan.”
“Queen.” Luce turned to face them fully. “Queen of the Lycan.”
After exchanging a glance with Ariadne, Azriel tilted his head. “Apologies. I was unaware the lycan had a sitting Queen.”
Liulund, with his black-inked eyes and shaved head, sat forward. “None recognized by the high fae royalty, but the lineage remains.”
Having drawn her attention to him, Edira raised a brow and let her hazel gaze soak up the high fae across the table from her. She nodded to him in silent thanks, then turned back to Luce. Liulund’s mouth quirked.
“Please,” Madan said from his seat to Ariadne’s left, “explain. You’ve brought with you a large army of lycan, and I believe I speak forVhaltrinjaandYvhaltrinjawhen I say we’re all very grateful for all your support. We wish to know more.”
“My great-grandmother was the last honored Lycan Queen,” Luce explained, addressing the table. “She led a rebellion againstthe high fae King of the time to regain our ancestral lands in the coastal regions of L’Oden Forest.”
“I had no knowledge of this,” Ariadne admitted, though she had a sneaking suspicion it had likely been discussed by her governess during one of the many history lessons during which she disappeared into one of her romance novels and ignored everything else.
To her endless relief, Lord Oren Theobald also shook his head and cast her a sympathetic look, flashing his extraordinarily long fangs in the process. “As it is not Valenul history, it is not well-known even amongst the members of Society.”
“Victors are those who write the history books,” Phulan noted.
“We’ve recently discovered just how lackluster these lessons are within Valenul,” Edira said with a pained smile. “Your sister was just as surprised by much of this as well.”
But Liulund scoffed. “Don’t pretend as though we’re taught about an existing royal line of lycans, either. It’d give themtoo much power.”
Edira laughed louder, perhaps, than was necessary. “You’re not wrong about that.”
“Please continue,” Whelan said with a nod to Luce from his place to Azriel’s right. It looked odd for him to be sitting across from Madan rather than next to him, and Ariadne had a sinking feeling that the seat had not always been his, but Kall’s.
Blinking hard, she refocused on the lycan farther down the table.
“When she surrendered at the final battle near Baalor,” Luce said, “she traded herself for the freedom of the lycans who marched under her banner. Her only daughter, my grandmother, had fought in the battles, but was hidden from the high fae to keep her safe.”
