The room is dark except for the dying embers in the fireplace. We used to have separate rooms in Wesley’s keep but here in the capital, Rhianelle insisted we share chambers. She said she slept better knowing I was close.
I haven’t argued.
Rhianelle sits slumped at her desk, silver hair spilled across another letter she was writing. Her breathing is slow and even, her face peaceful in sleep. The quill has fallen from her fingers, leaving a small ink stain on the parchment.
I cross the room silently and slip one arm beneath her knees, the other supporting her back. She weighs nothing in my arms. I carry her to our bed, settling her gently against the pillows.
“Sweetheart,” I murmur, brushing a kiss against her forehead. “I’m home.”
She stirs slightly, her eyes fluttering open for just a moment. “Svenn?”
“Sleep, little fawn.”
She murmurs something in her sleep. Focusing on her face was a mistake. I forget what the sight of those pouting lips does to my cock.
Her eyes close again, and within seconds her breathing evens out once more.
The bond whispers in the back of my mind, dark and insistent.Make her ours. She’s right here, warm and willing and—
I shut it down hard.
I settle into the chair by the window, content to watch her sleep.
The bond is only going to get more unbearable the closer we are to the eclipse. He shows me what he wants in flashes—
Rhianelle on an altar with my head between her thighs. Her legs are squirming around me, her back arched and her breasts bounce with every deep breath.
Another onslaught of images of her body seizing and buckling as I’m buried deep in her sweet heat.
I rip the thought away before it can root.
The fucking bond knows the eclipse is coming. He’s counting down alongside me. I don’t let myself think about what he will ask of me when the time runs out.
I enter my dormancy as the steady rhythm of her heartbeat chases away the darker whispers in my head.
4
Chapter 3 Svenn
The predawn light filters through the curtains of our shared chambers. I watch Rhianelle sleep, her breathing soft and even. One hand curls beneath her cheek like a child’s.
Her eyes flutter open. Lilac meeting black.
She stretches and the sheets slip lower along her shoulders. My gaze betrays me for half a heartbeat. I drag it back to her face and anchor it there.
“How long have you been awake?” she asks.
“I don’t sleep, little fawn.”
“I know that.” She sits up, silver hair tumbling over her shoulders. “I meant how long have you been watching me like that?”
“Only a few hours.”
She laughs. The sound catches me off guard every time, bright and unguarded. It spills into the room like light through an open window. Something in my chest pulls tight around it.
Rhianelle reaches for the robe draped over the chair beside our bed and slips it around her shoulders. The silk falls in pale folds as she crosses to the window. Below us, the capital of Aelfheim spreads wide and silvered in the early light. It’s stillmostly dark, but I can see the first stirrings of activity in the streets.
“The Aldarelf council reached a decision yesterday,” she says quietly. “The Aeonian gave their blessing to sanction it.”
