My hand slid between our slamming bodies, fingers finding her swollen clit. I rubbed it in firm circles, matching the relentless drive of my hips. My other arm braced under her ass, supporting her weight as I fucked her against the tree, lifting her slightly with each plunge.
“Shit, Mira.” I fought for control. “You feel... I can’t...”
Her breaths came in sharp pants, her body trembling as I pounded into her. Our bodies collided with wet slaps that echoed in the forest. My cock dragged along her inner walls, hitting that spot inside her that made her sob my name. Blood from my chest dripped onto her breasts, and she smeared it across her skin with one hand, marking herself with me.
“Come for me,” I commanded, my voice the king’s tone that brooked no argument, the dominant alpha demanding her surrender. “Now, Mira.”
“Y-yes…Your Majesty.”
She obeyed, her body shattering around me. Her orgasm clenched around me with a force that triggered my own, and the knot swelled, stretching her entrance, sealing us together as I spilled inside her with a groan that came from a place deeper than my chest.
I held her there, still buried to the hilt, my forehead against hers as we both caught our breath. The pain in my chest throbbed, but it felt distant now, overshadowed by the heat of her body around mine.
“I hate that you’re good at that,” she murmured against my skin.
“I’ve got centuries.”
The bond vibrated between us, wider than before. An honesty that bodies could communicate when words still fumbled the translation.
We dressed in silence that was warm instead of strained. She reapplied the bandage with competent hands and commentary about my medical decisions that I accepted as affection.
We walked toward camp. Her shoulder brushed mine every few steps, neither of us pulled away.
A raven dropped from the canopy and landed on a branch at eye level. Black feathers. Intelligent eyes. A scroll bearing the Veyndral council seal. Annora’s seal, specifically.
Mira stopped. “Friend of yours?”
“Not remotely.”
Formal script. Brevity as power.
‘Your continued absence has been noted by the full council. The legitimacy of a human queen remains contested. I am preparing to travel to your location to assess the situation personally and ensure the kingdom’s interests are represented.’
I read it twice. The audacity improved on the second reading.
To assess the situation. As if my mate was a situation that required Annora’s personal evaluation. As if decades of service entitled her to inspect the woman I’d chosen and render a verdict on a queen who already existed whether the council liked it or not.
I crumpled the scroll and threw it at the bird.
The raven launched off the branch with an indignant screech, the ball of paper bouncing off its wing as it banked into the canopy. Not my finest diplomatic moment.
Mira watched the raven disappear. “What did it say?”
“Council business.”
“Council business that made you assault a bird.”
“The stupid bird will recover.”
She studied. I kept my expression neutral, which meant she saw through it instantly.
“Lucian. What did it say?”
“A council member is coming. To assess the situation.”
“The situation being me.”
I didn’t answer. Which was answer enough.
