He pulled back just enough for us to look at each other. His face grew serious, his eyes searching mine.
"Are you alright?" he asked, concern threading through his voice.
"I am, my love." I smiled at him. "I missed you so much... I couldn't wait to return."
Malek smirked, but it faded almost immediately. Something in his gaze darkened, a shadow passing over thewarmth he usually carried. I realized there was a worry he had yet to share.
"What is it?"
"Do you… not want to go back to Ceilte?"
Beneath his hesitant tone, I heard the fear he didn’t voice.
I cupped his face in my hands, taking in every detail of his features: the dark braids of his hair, the small scar cutting through his eyebrow, the straight line of his nose. His full lips made my stomach tighten as memories surfaced, but it was his eyes that held me captive.
He was the most beautiful male I had ever seen. Yet it wasn't his face nor his body—sculpted by the Goddesses with such care—that made me fall for the Ruk’hai. What enchanted me was his heart. The very thing beating wildly beneath my palm whenever I pressed my hand against his chest.
"Ceilte is part of who I am," I answered sincerely. "But it’s with you that I choose to stay. In Oksha."
His gaze softened instantly, his shoulders loosening. My own heart quickened when he smiled so openly that dimples appeared in his cheeks. I would never tire of that smile, even if millennia passed.
"Do you swear it?"
"I swear it. And you?" I countered, arching an eyebrow. "Do you want to stay with me?"
Malek laughed, a raspy, wonderful sound that sent a shiver through me. He leaned forward and kissed my neck, his fangs grazing my skin at the exact place where the scar from his bite remained. When he lifted his head again, his eyes shone with an emotion so genuine it stole my breath.
"One hundred and thirty years ago, I lost my parents in the first battle I ever fought. The High Fae captured me and left me locked in a dark cell."
My throat burned as I remembered the debt my family owed—not only to Malek, but to the entire Okshai people.
"I was certain I would die. I had lost my kuturo, and there was nothing left but guilt and memory. My atar died protecting me, and my ama couldn’t endure the grief of losing him. I had nothing, krash’uk. I became a shadow, barely more than a memory. Then one day, a light appeared in the darkness. A tiny High Fae with hair as golden as the sun and the bluest eyes I had ever seen. She spoke out of curiosity, but I didn't understand a single word."
I smiled, remembering that day. Kristan and I had been caught stealing apple pies from the kitchen. It felt impossibly distant, yet vivid in my mind.
"I was so angry, Fiona… at myself, at my people, at Ceilte, at everything the High Fae represented. But you gave me hope. I escaped with the ring and the promise that one day I would return to find you and repay my debt."
He inhaled slowly, emotion tightening his features.
"If fate exists, it wove you for me, krash’uk. I never wanted to mate, but with you, I want everything. I want to stay beside you until my bones grow brittle, my skin dries, and my hair thins. I want children with you. I want to meet our grandchildren and watch our kuturo grow until they no longer need us. And when the time comes, I want to cross into the Otherworld with you."
His words settled deep inside my heart, becoming my own. I held his face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath mycalloused palm. My thumbs traced the lines of his cheekbones, memorizing every detail.
"You speak of distant years," I whispered. "But know this: even when strength leaves my arms and my sight fades, my eyes will still seek yours. If fate bound us together, it used threads neither time nor death can sever."
He kissed me again, a gesture louder than any declaration.
"I love you, Malek," I said, the truth resonating in my chest.
"I love you too, Fionnuala Kerridan."
The next kiss came harder, more urgent. The need to touch, to reassure ourselves that we were safe and together, burned through us. Malek pulled back just long enough to strip away our clothes. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensation of being the center of his world. His hands moved down my back, sending shivers across my skin.
"Mine," he growled, the sound low and possessive.
I pulled him toward me; the scent of the forest and the roughness of his hands against my skin made me moan into his mouth. He slid his hand lower, finding my damp heat, teasing my clitoris with his thumb in slow circles that only fanned the flames of my desire.
His length pulsed against my thigh, large and heavy. I wrapped my fingers around it, though I could barely close my hand completely. Malek groaned in response, pleasure roughening the sound, and quickened the rhythm of his fingers. When his digits grew slick with my desire, he lifted me.
