“They say he’s charming.”
Viktor’s laugh was low.
“So’s a snake, right before it bites.”
“Storm take me—” she teased, “you’re jealous.”
“Not jealous.”
He rolled, pinning her beneath him, heat burning through her shift. His mouth claimed hers—hungry, possessive—before he growled, “I don’t share.”
Her breath hitched, fingers threading through his braids. When he finally eased back, she stayed beneath him, wide-eyed with wonder. With a tender hand, she brushed the dark strands from his eyes.
“In the forest… when you sent your power through me. What was that, Viktor?”
His jaw tightened. Dask, she didn’t know.
“I pushed my power through your body, steadied your arms, your aim…” His voice roughened, breaking against the memory. “But it wasn’t just that. I felt… everything.”
Her brows knit. “Everything?”
He swallowed hard, his hand dragging down her hip as though remembering it.
“The way your breath caught when I pulled you close. The tremor in your hands when I told you what to do. Even—” His voice cracked into a groan. “Even the way you felt me against you.”
The silence after was fire.
His pulse pounded in his ears, misery and need tangling until he wanted to laugh at himself.
“So if you mean to torture me, love… you’ve done it well.”
Her question hung between them like a dare.
“And if you did it now?”
His breath dragged slow, heavy. His hand tightened at her hip, muscles taut as though holding back a storm. His voice burned against her ear.
“You wouldn’t survive it, love. Not with me in this bed. Not with me in your skin.”
The words shivered through her, heat sparking wild beneath her ribs. His restraint was a living thing, barely leashed—and for the first time she understood: his hunger was as dangerous as it was devoted.
For a breath, she only clung to him, torn between wanting and trembling. Then, softly—almost too soft—she asked, “You’d never… not without asking, would you?”
He stilled, then lowered himself beside her, pulling her against him until her head rested over his bare chest. His hand slid into her hair, steady, grounding.
“Never. You’ll never feel my power—or me—without your yes.”
Her fear quieted at that, giving way to something warmer. She pressed into the thunder of his heart, listening to the rough cadence of his breath.
His arm tightened around her, his mouth brushing her temple.
“You’re safe with me, my love.”
Chapter Fifty-One
From Soldier to Consort
He must prove himself worthy of her—and of the realm.
