But when I turned, I saw Samryn’s red eyes in the darkness. He was still lying down on the earth, but his head was raised as he regarded the both of us. His scales were thrumming, creating a song of his own. A beautiful one, haunting and hushed. One I thought I could listen to forever.
“What is that?” I whispered, not wanting to break the spell.
Alaryk’s hand wrapped around my hip as he moved into place beside me.
“Hissy’asha,” he said, the quiet reverence in his voice unmistakable. “An Elthika’s song.”
A deep breath fell from him, one of relief. Pure and beautiful.
“It’s gone,” he told me. “This is his thanks. His blessing. Meant for you and you alone, Amaia.”
“His blessing?”
Alaryk turned me toward me. “He knows I’ve chosen you as my mate. He knows I intend to take you as my wife. To be mine. For the rest of our days.”
My heart gave a little throb, a swooping in my belly accompanying it. I tried to fight against the grin that threatened to crack my face open. I felt like I was floating, light as air after what we’d accomplished. “Oh? You do? And do I have a say in this decision?”
Alaryk grinned. “You do. And you’ll undoubtedly give me your strong opinion about the matter.”
“And you’ll just be bossy about it regardless,” I breathed, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“You do like that,” he whispered, the words drifting across my lips when he leaned down.
The kiss was soft, bordering on sweet.
“Thank you, Amaia,” he breathed against me, as Samryn’ssy’ashawrapped around us like a veil. “Thank you.”
“Alaryk.”
He dragged his lips across my cheekbone, across the bridge of my nose.
“I want you to be mine too,” I told him. An answer to his unspoken question, one I felt thrumming within him.
I felt his grin more than saw it.
Across the bond, he replied,Ialready am,mariss.
Epilogue
AMAIA
I wanted payback, and Alaryk knew it.
So it delighted me to watch him squirm.
His irises were so dark they were inky pools of blue. Briefly, they shuttered from my view when he closed his eyes, his neck tilting back, a deep exhale tearing from him, followed by an anguished moan.
The bonds around his wrists were tight. I’d worried that I’d hurt him, but he liked the scraping of the rope digging into his flesh. One thing about sex with him, which I was still coming to learn, was that his needs were stillhim. There were times, like tonight, when he craved the roughness, the torment, the biting surprise of sweet pain followed by teeth-gritting pleasure. Other times he liked it slow, liked to savor the feel of my body around him while he was deep inside my mind, consuming me in totality as only he could.
All I knew was that both versions of him made me shiver uncontrollably, made me hunger, made me wet, made me see dizzying stars.
I nibbled on his bottom lip, drawing it into my mouth, sucking.He breathed into me, a constant rumble reverberating through his chest, vibrating my hands.
Slowly, I sank my hips down. And when he tried to thrust up, tried to getdeeper, I laughed and pulled up.
“Amaia,” came the growled, dark word. A warning.
I gave him a soft kiss. He was seated in the chair I’d tied him to, and I felt him struggle against the bonds. We both knew, no matter how tight I’d tied them, he could still snap them with his strength if he wanted to. He could break the whole damn chair if he wanted to.
