She was a picture of composure, but he felt the heat in her blood through the bond and the stutter in her heartbeat when his shadow traced higher, caressing the bare skin of her inner thigh.
Her own shadow light curled back, twining around his wrist, binding tight. Images bloomed in his mind—her on her knees,lips parting as they took him in her mouth. Rune’s hand tightened on the goblet until the wine boiled.
He forced a smile, nodding faintly to whatever Lady Nexia said when she stopped to greet him. He couldn’t have repeated a word if he tried.
Alora’s laughter carried sweetly, though her eyes flicked once to him. Her shadow light slipped down his pants, slowly stroking him. Rune bit back a growl, the crimson glow of his eyes brightening as his mind spilled back an image of what he intended to do to her later.
His queen politely excused herself from conversation and he watched with a predator’s intent as she strode over to him.
Rune’s veins burned with the effort it took to hold himself back, every muscle coiled tight with restraint as her soft curves settled onto his lap, pressing on the bulge hardly hidden beneath the table. Her eyes gleamed with challenge, fingers toying idly with the hair at his nape as though she owned him. His hand clamped harder at her waist, wings twitching restlessly at his back.
“Did you not ask me to behave?” he rumbled under his breath.
Alora leaned in innocently as if to whisper a secret, but her small, sharp teeth nipped his ear. “Am I making it difficult?”
Rune drew in a ragged breath, his control slipping by a thread. He turned his head until his mouth nearly brushed hers and growled a sweet promise for her alone, but a threat all the same.
“Do that again and I’ll bend you over right here for all to see as I make you scream my name. And I won’t stop, songbird, not until you are adripping, mewling mess.”
Alora’s lips parted, her breath catching, yet the smile that curved there dared him to try.
Rune’s claws flexed against her hip, shadows rattling the stone floor like chains straining to break.
Well, he just might.
When the music swelled again, and souls of the dead hummed in the open sky, twirling like fairy lights.
Rune was on his feet at once, hand outstretched. “Dance with me.”
She placed her palm in his regal as any queen, and they drifted to the floor. They danced like fire and shadow, their bodies circling with practiced grace.
They lasted barely a song.
Rune bent low, lips grazing hers. “I am done waiting.”
Together they slipped from the hall, shadows swallowing the doorway behind them, leaving their court to feast without its king and queen.
Rune pressed her back against the wall outside the doors. His body caged hers, all muscle and heat and madness barely held in check. One hand braced above her head, the other pulling her close. He kissed her, slow and demolishing. His tongue swept hers, letting her taste the full weight of his desire, his hunger, and adoration.
“To belong to me for the rest of the night,” he snarled softly, taking her mouth in his.
Have I ever belonged to another? Alora teased.
It seemed she needed reminding.
Rune swept her up, cloak flaring behind them, and teleported them straight to their bedchamber in a whirl of shadows and smoke.
They arrived in their chambers where he was already on his knees, hoisting her leg over his shoulder.
She gasped, clutching his horns, golden hair fanned like spilled sunlight down her face.
“Do you know,” Rune rumbled, brushing his mouth along her inner thigh, “how impossible it is to remain civilized while you are wearing this sinful dress and giving me that look?
“What look?”
“The one that says you want me to fuck you hard and deep until you forget how to breathe.”
Alora smiled down at him. “You know me well.”
