My hands skimmed over his body between hurried kisses and gasped promises. His body against mine made everything else fade—the war, the kingdom, even the destiny of the Storm-born name.
“You feel like fire,” I breathed as his mouth traced down my throat, teeth grazing the hollow of my collarbone. My magic flared in response to his touch, white-blue light flickering just beneath my skin.
“And you feel like home,” he said against my breast before his lips closed over it. I gasped, fingers tightening in his hair as he worshipped me with every kiss, every touch.
When he finally settled between my thighs, his gaze met mine—Dark Fire glowing behind those midnight eyes. “Tell me you want this.”
“I want everything,” I whispered. “All of you.”
His name tore from my lips as he slid into me with slow, aching precision. The stretch, our joining, it was overwhelming. Perfect. His forehead dropped to mine as he pressed deeper, ourbodies aligning like they were always meant to. Like fate had been leading us here all along.
We moved together, a rhythm older than blood and bone, matching each other breath for breath. His hand tangled in mine above my head, pinning me gently, possessively, as if to sayminewithout ever speaking a word.
Every thrust sent pleasure spiraling through me, igniting every nerve, every ounce of magic humming just beneath my skin. My power met his in the space between us, surging, twining, a storm barely contained.
“Zander—” I gasped, rising, unraveling.
“I’ve got you.” His voice was ragged, lips at my ear. “Let go, Ashlyn. Let me feel you.”
I shattered in his arms, his name a cry on my lips as my magic poured through me, through him, cascading like lightning through our bond. He followed me over the edge with a groan, his body tensing, then trembling with the force of it.
For a moment, the world held still.
And then he collapsed beside me, breathless, his arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me close until our skin was pressed from shoulder to ankle.
His lips brushed my temple. “I’ll never let you go again.”
You never did, I thought, and nestled into the curve of his body, where everything, just for tonight, was safe.
Zander lay on his side, one hand tracing lazy circles along my bare spine. His breath had evened out, but I knew sleep was still a distant thing for both of us. My head rested against his chest, his heart beating steady beneath my cheek.
“We should sleep,” I whispered.
“I know,” he said quietly. “But my mind won’t stop.”
“Mine either.”
He was quiet for a beat before his voice dipped lower. “Do you think Theron could be behind it all? Our father’s poisoning, Belana’s murder, his disappearance, even Remy being set up?”
I lifted my head, propping my chin on his chest. “You’re wondering if his disappearance is a ploy. Something to frame others… draw suspicion away from himself.”
He nodded. “It’s convenient. Too convenient. The moment father names Dorian as his successor, Theron vanishes. Then Remy gets caught passing information, and Cade points at Ferrula—almost like they were ready for something to distract us.”
“And let’s not forget the ledger,” I said. “The assassin was paid by Varnari. But what if that was planted too? Something to turn attention away from whoever orchestrated all of it?”
Zander exhaled slowly, his jaw tight. “If Theron orchestrated this… if he poisoned Father, framed Remy, allowed Belana to die…”
“He didn’t just allow it. He benefited from it.” I met his gaze. “If you had married Inderia he would have secured two royal houses, maybe you...”
“I never wanted the court,” he muttered, shifting onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. “I still don’t.”
“But they want you,” I whispered. “The dragons, the riders, even the people. And that’s what makes you dangerous to him.”
His throat moved as he swallowed. “You think he’d try to kill me next?”
“I think,” I said carefully, “that whoever is behind this is smart. Strategic. And if Theron is the mastermind, he’s been playing this game far longer than any of us realized.”
Zander’s hand came up to cup my jaw, his thumb brushing beneath my cheekbone. “You always see the truth buried beneath the mess.”
