Rune moaned at her touch, his head falling back when the pads of her fingers teased the ridges.
“It is my turn to worship you,” Alora said, climbing onto his lap.
She fit herself over them, taking him within her body with ease as though it were the only place she had ever belonged. His claws tightened on her hips, breath shuddering as she slowly moved, riding him in a rhythm that had them both gasping.
“Yachid sheli,”she murmured in the language of the Heavens, lips brushing his pointed ear.“Bechiri.”
The knowledge came unbidden, woven somewhere in her soul.
Rune went utterly still, his chest heaving, red eyes wide as the meaning struck him.
My only one. My chosen.
Something in his expression broke open. Softness flickered there, then vanished, consumed by desire. Rune took her throat and claimed her mouth again, holding her close as their bodies met with desperate need.
Their breaths tangled and the shadows surged high around them, sealing them in velvet dark. They made love as if the dawn might never come, pouring everything they were into each other.
And the throne bore witness to something far more sacred than gods.
CHAPTER 65
Rune
Dawn arrived without sunlight.
Rune felt it instead, a thinning of the dark, a subtle loosening in the air as if the world itself hesitated. The camp lay hushed beneath thick clouds smothering the sun, tents stretching across the valley beneath the Hydell Hills like a waiting host of ghosts. No birds stirred. No banners snapped. Even the wind was quiet, fires banked low, shadows drawn close as though listening.
Tonight, the Blood Moon would rise.
The Rift bled faintly through the overcast sky, a dull red seam stitched across the Heavens, pulsing slow and patient. It tugged at him with every breath, a reminder of what waited and what could no longer be delayed.
Rune stood outside of his large tent with a view of it all.
All seven courts lined behind the tents of their Dominion lords. The humans, fae, and Minotaurs would join them when the time came.
An army prepared for annihilation.
Drakon circled the sky in lazy circles, but at a distant screech, he glanced at the gray griffin flying over the ridge. The Sun Sorceress would see that the Beacons strategically placed among the high hills would light up the dark when the time came.
Either way, everything was prepared.
“Sire.” Deimos appeared in a puff of smoke.
“Do you have what I asked?”
He presented him with a rolled-up scroll of parchment, and Rune tucked it away into his shadows.
Deimos kept his head bowed but the unease was clear in the nervous twitch of his tail. “Are you sure about this?”
No…but the decision was made.
Calla and Hadeon emerged from the trees, already dressed in armor, their expressions despondent.
“You have served me well,” Rune said. “I trust you will do the same for her.”
All three lowered to one knee and bowed their heads, clamping a fist over their hearts.
Turning away, Rune stepped into his quiet tent.
