I wail his name, my hands clawing at the furs, at anything to anchor me against the sheer force of my climax.
But Kael isn’t done.
He doesn’t stop.
His fingers keep working me, his cock still thrusting deep,prolonging my pleasure until my body is shaking, too much, too good, I can’t, I can’t?—
A second wave crashes through me—violent, devastating, leaving me wrecked and undone beneath him. My thighs tremble, my nails curving under from my grip on the furs, my voice breaking on the ruins of his name.
“Fuck—Elyssara?—”
“I’m going to fill your pussy,” his voice is pure torment, his thrusts losing rhythm, going wild, desperate, on the edge of breaking.
And then he does?—
One. Two. Three brutal, perfect thrusts—and he’s gone.
Kael follows me into oblivion.
His groan is animalistic, almost tortured, as he pulses inside me, claiming me, wrecking me.
He collapses against me, his weight pressing me into the furs, his breath ragged against my skin.
My body still trembles. Still wrung out. Still ruined.
I can’t think. Can’t move.
I feel like I’ve been undone at the seams.
He rolls to the side, pulling me with him, holding me close.
His hands tremble slightly.
He buries his face in my hair, and when he speaks, his voice is quiet, almost reverent.
“Mine,” he murmurs against my skin.
A breath. A kiss. “Always.”
CHAPTER FIFTY
KAEL
I kissElyssara on the forehead as she sleeps, sinking deep into the furs, naked but warm under blankets that make her seem so fragile, so small.
I should stay. Should keep my arms around her, bury my face in her hair, lose myself in her warmth.
But duty pulls me away.I need to talk to Therion.
An ache sits heavy in my chest, deep and dull—like a second heartbeat that doesn’t belong to me. A sensation so foreign that I press my palm against my sternum, as if I can physically quiet it. It’s not pain. It’s not desire. It’s awareness.A tether.
Even as I slide my boots on and step out into the night, I still feel her.
The fire burns low, embers crackling softly. Most of the camp sleeps, but Therion remains, seated by the flames, staring into them as if they hold the answers he’s looking for. Smoke curls through the air, thick with charred wood and distant rain.
He doesn’t look up, but he knows I’m here.
He tosses a flask in my direction.Silverwake.
