“Yes, love,” he purred lazily. “What can I do for you?”
Alora glanced at him over her shoulder from the floor-length mirror. She was ravishing in crimson silk, the gown’s sides bare, laced only by golden threads. Those perfect lips curved when she caught the heat in his gaze.
Rune lounged in a chair behind her, shirt half-undone, pale skin bared like an invitation. His shadows curled possessively around her ankles, worshiping every step she took.
Oh, he could do plenty for her.
And Rune showed her. A clear vision of exactly what he’d rather do than suffer tonight’s sordid affair.
Once, Alora would have flushed at such unbecoming provocation. Now, she smiled, eyes full of promise. She crossed the chamber with a deliberate sway, then set her heel on his chest, nodding at the loose ribbons expectantly.
“Can you behave yourself tonight?”
Rune grinned, fangs flashing. “Of course.”
He slid his palms up her smooth calves as he laced her heels. Then he set down her foot and caught her throat, tugging her close.
“But only if I can misbehave later.” He dragged his mouth down her neck, over her collarbone, licking then biting hard enough to make her gasp.
“Rune…” she moaned. “You need to get dressed, or we will be late.”
He slid his hands up her torso, fingers toying with the threads as he was tempter to tear off. “The banquet can wait. I’d rather feast on you.”
Her breath hitched as his tail slid up her dress, caressing her thighs. Though she tried to resist, her shiver betrayed her. He could already scent the sweetness in her?—
“This is important.” Alora pressed firmly at his chest and pushed him back into the chair with effortless strength.
He frowned. Even now, in the eight years since his resurrection, he hadn’t grown used to her surpassing him.
“You have conquered the Seven Hells and imprisoned the Primordials once more in the Abyss. No one can ever question your right to the throne.”
“Wedefeated them,” Rune sighed. “And I care little for the court’s applause.”
It was formality, really. His power now could not be contested.
Her gaze searched his. “Or is it because your family will arrive?”
He looked away.
Family.
They shared no blood, no true bond of kinship. Why Jökull and Sunnëva had accepted her invitation was beyond him.
Alora’s fingers brushed the God’s Mark glowing faintly on his wrist. “This is your kinship.”
He studied his new markings and paths of constellations on his skin.
What was he now? God, consort, or something that transcended past cosmic understanding.
Her voice was soft but sure. “You’re mine.”
Rune lifted a curl from her temple, his crimson gaze molten.Always.
“And the rightful King of the Netherworld.” Alora returned to the mirror to finish brushing her hair. “The Court of Sin and Ruin has gathered to honor your conquest.”
Standing, Rune came up behind her and took her waist as he kissed up her throat, his hands sliding to her hips. “The only ascension I seek is right here.”
Her breath quickened as his erection pressed into her spine. “You’ve had me last night, and this morning. Have you not had enough?”
