And she was ready to surrender herself fully to him.
Stepping back, her fingers trembled as she reached for the laces of her bodice. Her heart thundered in her chest, each pull of the strings feeling like a quiet crossing of a threshold where she had no experience and surrender as she gave it all.
Rune’s brow furrowed, features softening as his fingers lightly stroked along her jaw. “Coming to my bed will always be your choice.”
She smiled faintly, pressing a kiss to his palm, grounding herself in the warmth of him. “I know. I want to…”
He studied her face, reading the hesitation she could not quite hide. “But?”
Her cheeks warmed and she bit her lip, the words catching before they could form. “With the war coming, I wonder if I should take… precautions.”
Rune’s brows lifted when he caught her meaning, then fell. “Ah,” he said softly. “You will not fall pregnant, songbird. I cannot sire children. Elyon made sure of that.”
The way he said it made her chest ache. His glowing eyes searched hers, bracing for her reaction. It did sadden her, shehad to admit. But the sorrow of what they couldn’t have did not outweigh what stood before her now. Because she finally had him.
In a world where everything else had been taken from them, that was a miracle.
Alora reached up to unclasp the strap on her left shoulder and let the dress fall softly in a pool of liquid night at her feet.
Rune exhaled raggedly.
She stood at the foot of his bed, glittering sin. The thin delicate chains kissed her skin, catching firelight with every breath. They sculpted her form in gilded jewels that framed her breasts. More dripped down her bare stomach and hips like the trails of a fallen star, the smallest of movements sending tiny sparkles cascading over her thighs.
It appeared like Rune had forgotten how to breathe.
He stared at her like she was a feast for a starving man. But he remained absolutely still, jaw tight, crimson eyes burning as his gaze raked over every glittering curve.
Alora tilted her head with a quiet laugh. “Well? Say something.”
“I’m trying not tolose control,” he growled.
Her heart thrummed wildly in her chest beneath the intensity of his gaze, but Alora raised her chin, a smile playing on her lips. There was no challenge she wouldn’t meet.
“I was told,” she said, running a finger along one jeweled strand curving over her waist and his wings snapped taut. “that this ensemble was dangerous enough to make a man kneel.” Her head canted. “Do you disagree?”
His eyes were scorching. “It’s enough to make me destroy any male who dared lay eyes on you.”
Heat bloomed in her core at the possessive claim.
He took a step but halted when she raised her hand.
His clawed hand took her wrist, raising it to his mouth. He pressed his nose to her vein, inhaling her scent as if it were ambrosia. Her body heated as his forked tongue traced over her pulse. Whenever they stood this close, he always sought it, savoring the steady thrum. As though reassuring himself her heart still beat.
“You truly are the source of my torment,” he rumbled. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
Rune’s gaze raked over slowly, tail flicking in a stalking rhythm, every part of him a predator in that moment. Alora swallowed but kept still. Tendrils of shadows coiled loosely around her ankles, traveling up her thighs.
The air thinned as he stood close, his body caging hers. She shivered at the hard press against her back. He grasped her throat, gentle but firm, razor sharp claws circling the beat of her heart.
“You appear before me like this,” he purred in her ear, every syllable sinking liquid fire into her bones. “And expect restraint?”
“No,” she breathed. “I expect to be devoured.”
Rune’s grip tightened enough to cut off some air and her core throbbed. “Oh, you will be.”
In a move so smooth, he whisked her off her feet.
With one arm beneath her thighs and one at her back, he carried her to the bed like she was the most sacred thing the world had ever made.
