He dropped his forehead to mine, his breath hot gasps, his gaze trapping mine with fierce, undeniable love.
“Every part of me belongs to you,” he rasped, his voice thick with strain. “Every thought, every scar… Every…fucking… breath.” The last word was punctuated by a relentless thrust that stole my cry. He held himself there, balls deep inside me, pulsing.
“And every piece of me belongs to you,” I choked out. “Together. Always.”
His control fractured. Uttering a broken sound, a needful, almost desperate groan, he surged against me again, his tempo fast, chasing the bliss we both craved. His hand released mine, sliding lower to find the place where our bodies merged. His thumb flew to my aching, desperate knot of nerves.
Blinding heat exploded inside me. My body rippled around him, shuddering as star-bright heat tore through every fiber. My cry filled the chamber, echoing off the stone. He gave way an instant later, a raw call tearing from his throat. He slammed deep, releasing everything inside me in hot, pulsing bursts. He held himself there, braced over me, shuddering through it, pouring himself into the soul-deep connection we’d forged together.
Slowly, the tremors subsided. He trembled above me, his breath coming in ragged pants that stirred the damp hair at my temple. Curling close, he kissed my forehead.
He eased his weight off me slowly and stood, lifting me into his arms, carrying me to the bed—ourbed. There, he dropped down, taking me with him. I curled against his chest, wrapping my arms around him, my legs tangling with his.
Our breathing slowed. Only the crackle of the fire and the pounding of our hearts broke the silence. He slowly traced the curve of my hip, tiredness already starting to claim his movements.
I laced our fingers.
Firelight danced across the stone walls, paintingshifting patterns like spectral tattoos. My fingers took a wandering path along the lines of powerful muscle beneath his damp skin. My gaze lingered on a bruise shadowing his collarbone. I kissed it.
He made a sound deep in his chest, half sigh, half hum of contentment, and pulled me even closer. His breathing deepened, becoming more regular, his tension finally beginning to melt away.
There was no kingdom needing his strength right now. No threats demanding his answer. No weight crushing him. Just this. Comfort. Warmth. My silent vigil over his rest.
Tenderness clamped around my throat. I loved watching him slip into sleep, seeing the king fade, leaving only the man who trusted enough to find true rest in my arms. I held on to him tighter. I would keep this quiet world safe for him. Every breath he took felt like a victory I’d fought hard for.
I yawned, my tired body begging rest. My soul had found peace, and I savored the feel of him beside me.
His breathing evened out entirely as he fell into a deep sleep.
My eyelids fluttered shut. For the first time since the battle horns rang out, I felt safe. Whole. Complete.
The night bled soft and blue through the balcony windows, the air smelling faintly of dew-soaked leaves, and for once, the world felt still. I lay listening to his heartbeat, the sound soothing me in a way nothing else ever could.
I traced shapes on his chest, circles, stars, promises. Exhaustion should’ve swept me away, but my mind wouldn’t rest. Not with him this close. Not when the future had finally stopped feeling like something I had to survive.
For the first time, I let myself imagineafter. What life might look like when we’d defeated the Skathes, when we’d crafted peace between his court and my father’s.
Maybe we’d fly again on Lakast, this time savoring the beauty of the world we’d continue to build together.
The thought warmed me, soft and fragile as candlelight, and I drifted to sleep.
59
ISI
Iwoke to the scent of honey and tea.
Soft light spilled through the window, hitting the rumpled sheets tangled around me. Trew stood near the bed, shirtless, a tray balanced in his hands and a big old satisfied grin on his face.
“Good morning, Minx,” he said. “I would’ve let you rest longer, but Betina insisted these are best while warm.”
I blinked, momentarily dazed by the sight of my man marked by old scars, his hair tousled, his eyes alight like the prettiest sunrise. “You brought me breakfast?”
“I did,” he said solemnly, as though it were an act of royal importance. “Your bravery in battle earned it.”
I snorted. “So did yours.”
“Mine comes with the privilege of feeding my favorite person in the whole world.” He sat on the edge of the bed, setting the tray beside me. He patted his lap. “Come here.”
