True friends don’t keep each other trapped.
I fling my lids up and glare at Lore.Don’t be insensitive.
I’m not; I’m pragmatic.
And I’m not?
No. Not when it comes to that man.
I draw in a breath that’s so heated it feels as though someone set my lungs on fire.
“Kiss me, Fallon.”
I glower at his mouth, really not in the mood after that conversation.
With a deep sigh, he slides his arms underneath me and scoots me up until I’m sitting on the edge of the desk and he stands in between my legs, stiffening cock still rooted inside of me.If I could’ve killed him instead of you, mo khrà, I would’ve, in a heartbeat, for I much prefer you resent me than your own self.
Gods, he makes it impossible to stay mad.
He slides his hands underneath my thighs and hoists me off the desk. The movement steals his length from my throbbing center.Now off to bed we go for we need rest.
I palm his nape, enjoying the pinch and play of tendons beneath his skin. “Perhaps detour through the bathing chamber?”
“No.”
“Lore, I’m covered in ink and . . .” I gesture to the sticky wetness on the inside of my thighs, the one I’m smearing all over his trim waist. “And you.”
“You’ll be covered in more of me come morning. We’ll shower then.”
I stare at my torso with a little trepidation. “What if the ink sets into my skin?”
“Then you’ll carry the imprint of my hands on your flesh for the rest of your life.”
“Be serious, my nipples are blue and I’m as striped as a wild cat.”
“I love your blue nipples. As for the stripes, they suit your personality.”
I shoot him a droll look that draws a smirk to his mouth, but then I smile. “When my father enquires as to why I showered in ink, I will point him your way, Lore.”
His eyes spark. “I’ll just tell him that you were snooping around my library to glimpse the tunnels Justus drew on our map and knocked over the inkwell. I suspect your father will be a tad peeved that you’ve ruined Justus’s work. He so loathes asking that man for assistance.”
My glee ebbs, becausemerda . . .“Did I really ruin the map?”
“No, Little Bird, I ruined it. You merely ruined me.”
Sixty-Six
After a full day of flying, land appears. Unlike Luce, which glimmers gold and green, Glace is as white as the bedding Lore and I stained with our ink-soaked bodies.
Not even a shower and thorough scrubbing managed to rid me of my newest markings. To avoid raising any eyebrows, especially my father’s, I donned gloves and a black turtleneck beneath the iron and leather armor Lore gifted me upon waking.
Another present he had custom-made for me. Though silly since it covers only my shoulders, chest, abdomen, and back, I feel as invincible as if I were enclosed inside a me-sized ward.
Thanks to black leather trousers and tall boots, the only visible piece of stained skin remaining is behind my ear, which prompted me to wear my hair loose. I probably shouldn’t have, considering the ferocity of the polar winds.
The second I’m off my father’s back, I work on combing out the snarls, all the while glancing toward the puffs of darkness that is Lore. My mate will not be shifting into skin today, primarily because no one yet knows that he’s again whole, but also because he deemed it judicious to leave two of his crows in the Sky Kingdom. Also, in case thereisa murder—hopefully, one not committed by me—we’ve decided it best the Glacins think he stayed behind in Luce.
I’m still tidying my hair when the snow-covered ground beside us begins to rumble.
