“Do you have one? Something only family calls you?”
His body went taut. He groaned into his hands.
“Dask… I do.”
“Tell me.”
She lifted on her elbow, eyes bright with mischief.
He peeked through his fingers.
“It’s… Tory.”
Her eyes lit like dawn.
“Tory!” she laughed, delight spilling out of her.
He dropped his hand over his face again, grinning helplessly.
“Stars above, there goes my dignity.”
“Tory Seraphim,” she teased, snuggling in. “I think I like it.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” he muttered, sweeping her hair from her shoulder.
“I’m not convinced anyone in Westport even remembers my real name.”
“Tory Seraphim,” she said again. “Ruakite soldier, consort to the Queen of Casqadia.”
He shook his head, laughing quietly.
“Just don’t tell the men. Gabriel’s only just stopped giving me hell.”
“Tell Gabriel…” She smirked. “It’sminenow.”
His fingers slid down her spine, coaxing another soft moan from her lips.
Dask, that sound.
Her body melted against him again, still warm, still trembling from what they’d shared. She pressed a kiss to his chest, her hand daring lower.
“Amerei?” he breathed, voice fraying.
Moonlight caught the gleam in her eyes.
“I don’t want to sleep yet,” she whispered, fingers wandering.
Storms… she wants more.
“I want to feel you again,” she said. “Do you think we could try?”
His laugh broke—shattered, reverent, disbelieving.
“Try?”
He caught her hand, pressing it flat to his chest where his heart still thundered.
“Love, I’ll give you everything until you can’t say my name without shaking. You’ll know I was made for you.”
