He stroked his tongue into her belly button and pulled at the waistband of her loose, silk pants, looking up with a questioning gaze.
Asking for permission after the terrifying encounter she’d endured earlier.
She nodded. His touch was exactly what she needed to chase away that darkness.
“I’d happily spend the rest of your life spoiling you rotten,” he whispered.
Her heart clenched briefly at the thought that his lifetime would be so much longer than hers.
But she dismissed the anxiety. She was done worrying about his past and their future. She’d take as much of him as she could get and be grateful for it.
Tristan moved his mouth lower, showing her how much he wanted her in licks and strokes.
The tingling at her back grew more intense.
She ignored it as best she could and focused on herma’anyu.
No matter what the Emperor or the Teles Chrysos had in store for them, that’s what they were.
Unbreakable.
CHAPTERFORTY-EIGHT
Cael paced along the concrete dock, a cool breeze ruffling his tawny waves and prickling the fine hairs coating his wing.
“He should’ve been here by now,” he grumbled.
“Will you relax, pterodactyl?” Xenia said, hugging her chest and rubbing at her upper arms to chase away the chill. “Maybe his alarm didn’t go off?”
Cael shot her an annoyed look. Now wasn’t the time for flippancy.
Whatever spell they’d been under during that glorious fever dream this morning had broken as soon as they’d disentangled and Xenia had darted into the bathroom to dress.
Stolia had agreed to meet them here at the dock fifteen minutes ago. A large cargo ship loomed next to them,Eurybiaprinted in white block letters on the black hull.
The dock teemed with Fae workers unloading cargo, untying lines, and running checks on the ship as gulls cawed overhead, seeking breakfast in the awakening seas.
Footsteps clomped down the metal staircase, and a hulking figure in a wide-brimmed white hat and oatmeal-colored linen suit waved at them. The Fae’s bushy silver beard and flowing hair whipped against his broad torso in the briny air.
“Cael, my boy!” Ohan Stolia boomed as he approached. He crushed Cael in a bruising hug, clapping a hand against the scar on Cael’s back and making him wince.
Ohan pulled back and his jollity faded into concern. “What happened to your wing, son?”
“We encountered some difficulties on our journey. It’s not important.”
Stolia didn’t need to know all the sordid details.
Ohan nodded carefully, then turned his attention to Xenia. “And this must be your precious cargo, I assume?” He grasped Xenia’s hand and pressed a gentlemanly kiss to her knuckles. “Charmed, Mistress. He didn’t mention how beautiful you are, but I can see why he’s so eager to get you to safety.”
Xenia blushed and pulled her hand from the Fae’s grip. “It’s nice to meet you, Master Stolia.”
“Please. I’m only Master Stolia to people I don’t like very much. Call me Ohan.”
Xenia laughed, already falling prey to the legendary charm that allowed the yak bi-form to successfully steer one of Ethyrios’s largest enterprises. “Okay, Ohan. And you can call me Zee, since we’re going to be friends.”
Cael swung an arm across Xenia’s shoulder, and Ohan snickered.
“Follow me, dear friends!” Ohan cried as he took the bobbing aluminum plank into the ship. “I’ll show you to your berth, Zee.”
