Sol whimpered as her face twisted. “Mmmm.”
"You're doing so good, little queen," Korin growled. "Taking me so well."
He pushed deeper.
Another growl rumbled in his chest. Low. Primal. His fangs pierced his gums, and he tasted blood.
His fire was rising. He could feel it building in his chest. In his throat. He had to pull it back. Had to keep it contained or he'd burn the entire bed down.
But Gods, it was hard not to set the room ablaze.
Everything in him wanted to explode.
He pushed deeper.
Halfway now.
Sol's pussy clenched around him, and Korin nearly lost it. He roared and the walls vibrated.
She widened her eyes.
He calmed himself. "You feel. . .”
He couldn't finish the sentence.
Couldn't think.
Couldn't breathe.
He pushed deeper. Three-quarters of the way in.
Sol cried out. Her back arched. Ice burst from her skin in a wave of frost.
Korin shuddered. The cold hit him like a blessing, but with no mercy. It cooled the fire raging inside him just enough that he could keep going, but it still stoked all of his desire.
One more push, and he was fully inside her.
Buried to the hilt.
Korin froze.
The gold thread between them—the one that had shimmered faintly since the moment he'd first scented her—went taut.
And then the soul bond’s thread thickened and swelled like a vein filling with blood.
Sol's heartbeat flooded through the thread and poured into his chest.
Soon he felt her fear, her wonder, the cold of her ice threading through his fire like silver wire braiding through gold.
For one breath, he wasn't sure where he ended and she began. And somewhere in the back of his mind, a quieter thought surfaced.
Pyrran. . .I’m sorry, but. . .
Pyrran's thread was still so thin. A wisp that was barely visible and not yet attached. When his brother saw what Korin's thread looked like now—fat, blazing, and full fused to Sol's ribs like a second spine. . .
Korin shoved the thought away.
I’ll deal with Pyrran's rage later.
