Mine.
The word comes to me again. It’s soon forgotten when fingers trace the outline of my jaw, lifting my face to heart-wrenching, soulful eyes. Not needing to speak any longer, Rivern’s lips are on mine in a heartbeat. His warmth cascades over me like a perfectly blended, toasty winter soup on my tongue—the sort one could keep drinking and drinking, never getting their fill.
Never enough.I could never have enough of Rivern.
His hands grip my arse cheeks, hauling me closer to him, our tongues taking turns exploring every inch of the inside of each other’s mouths. He pulls back to nibble on my bottom lip. Wetness cascades out of my core like a waterfall experiencing its first rush after a dry spell. Rivern’s tunic is now becoming increasingly soaked the more I grind on his hard abdomen.An abdomen I’m going to lick clean later.
A grunt comes beside us. Gideon’s brows are raised as he looks on at our display, amused. “Fuck, don’t look at me like that. I literally cannot help myself.”
I feel a slight pinch at my side. “Hey.” I swat at Rivern.
“Tell that wolf if he doesn’t find a bed for us, he’s going to be a witness to me burying you so full of cock you’ll not know where I start and you end.”
My pulse skyrockets. I look wide-eyed atmywolf. “We need a room.”
“Luckily, that’s exactly where we are going to take you.”
“We?” I peer out around him and find Moyrie lingering close by with a companion.
“Ihopethat’s what we were discussing, at least.” He points to her.
“Yes, let’s go. Please.” The whine at the end is a bit much, but I can’t help myself.
Moving around one more street of blissed-out moaning sounds, we come to a short flight of sandstone steps and pass through another set of white curtains. Moyrie moves through the curtain. We follow her down a long walkway filled with alcoves that house small, flickering flames in copper-like bowls. It is a sparse space, with roughened creamy stone and circular shapes carved in looping and swooping lines along the walls. Curtained doors dot the hallway, and when we reach the last curtain, Moyrie opens it and motions for us to enter.
Lush drapes hang from the ceiling, sconces lighting up the ample space. In the centre of the room, a wide, circular bed awaits us with plentiful creamy cushions and delicate-looking beige sheets.
My body only wants one thing as I grind into Rivern’s torso, moaning out my need for him. My skin crawls with a release I have never needed before. He doesn’t seem to be fairing much better, either. Broad, soft hands travel the length of my frame up and down, setting my skin on fire.
The heat is too much. “Take my dress off now.” My words come out harsh. Rivern moves us before the bed.
I know he feels what I feel. The way the bond shows me glimpses of his emotions, his need—it’s more addictive than any Silver Sands poison. That’s also the problem. Whatever is happening to us. Whatever we ate. We drank. That innocuous green liquid. It is all being exacerbated by the throbbing need not only in my core but in my chest for this fae male. It almost reminds me of the alcohol the villagers of Haven drink, except thispoisononly makes me far more pliant to my already raging desires. I’m relaxed for the first time in a long time, and that is the real aphrodisiac. I feel light. I feel free. I feel horny. Fear no longer controls me.
A twinge lets me know of the worry from Fury, the God, always in the background of my mind. I look over Rivern’s shoulder at the beastly wolf shifter standing by the door once again, talking to the very naked Silver Sands princess.
Rivern begins to pull at my dress. The sound of threads popping distracts me. I don’t care. Need is all I feel, and now a new feeling—rage.
This is a new rage, though. Not the same I hold for my people being unwittingly starved to death, or the emotions that make themselves present when Fury pushes my buttons. No, this is something else.
The princess is too close to Gideon. She’s almost rubbing her body against his clothing as she reaches up to brush at his stubbly cheek.
She’s touching what’s mine.
Mine. Mine. Mine.Mine.
The word is a chant in my head, seeking absolution for what I’m seeing.
Without thought, just a natural instinct within, Argus backs up in my chest and blows.
A blue fire burns through my mind’s eye, my anger directed at the female draping herself all over my beast.
He is mine.
Amber eyes flicker up to meet me—a force barrels into the two people, fuelled by my fire. The invisible power sends Moyrie flying backwards, her tail catching her before she falls to the hard stone below.
Her split tongue hisses out at me.
“Leave,” I respond, the well of blue flames roaring through my soul, forcing her body through the curtain.
