My nails tear at his skin as I cry out. My body moves with his touch—rising to meet him, plush satin pressing against my back as I sink into the bed when it becomes too much. My moans echo against the stone walls. My breath quickens, gasps breaking free as I feel the wave crest and crash over me. I clutch at him as if I might otherwise be lost at sea.
When he finally draws me beneath him, the world narrows to heat and heartbeat. His name breaks against my lips like prayer.
The firelight paints us in bronze and gold, shadows shifting as if the very walls breathe with us. Every motion is deliberate, reverent—an unspoken vow made flesh.
When at last he is poised above me, I look at him—utterly undone, yet ready to be remade. A breath of a nod tells him I am ready, urging him on.
As he enters me, I feel it down to my soul—like a piece I hadn’t known was missing until it finally found its place. There is no beginning or ending, only the sense of being wholefor the first time.
It isn’t only flesh that yields, but every guarded part of me. I feel as though I have uncovered a secret truth my heart has always longed to remember.
Time bends; thought vanishes. There is only the rhythm we built together—the rise and fall, the sound of breath meeting breath—until the world fractures into light.
When the crescendo builds again, he is with me in every heartbeat. We rise and fall as one.
With ragged breath, he gathers me close, foreheads pressed, the air between us still humming.
“Little flame,” he whispers, voice raw. “If I could stay in this moment forever, the crown itself could turn to ash, and I would not care.”
I trace the line of his jaw, memorizing him by touch. “Then let it burn,” I murmur.
Outside, thunder rolls somewhere distant—the storm answering the pulse that still lives in our veins.
Chapter Fourteen
Heat holds me as I stir, warm in his embrace, dim light barely filtering into the room. My toes quietly dance across the tops of his feet, our legs tangled as I stretch. If this is what letting go feels like, I may have to give in more often. The content feeling as lush as the opulent bedding we are now cocooned in.
I feel the rumble in his chest before the words. “Good morning, beautiful.”
Gods—the way he looks at me. Unraveled with a glance, laid bare at his words. My ruin and my redemption in one.
“Good morning.” A satisfied smile curves my lips that he promptly seals with a kiss. His fingers trace the line of my neck, trailing delicately down my chest to the edge of the blanket loosely draped over me.
A wicked grin flickers across his face, snapping into solemn composure faster than I like. “I should leave before Soria arrives. It was one thing to have her take the night off after the revelry. She need not find me in your bed in such a state this morning.”
Sensing how the shift hits me, he softens, bends to press a playful kiss to my bare shoulder as I prop myself on one arm, the blanket threatening to slip.
“And what state would that be?” I ask, leaning into the playful and ignoring his imminent departure.
He flops back on the bed, the weight of him crashing down with a jolt that draws a laugh from my lungs. One arm tucks behind his head, the other tracing idle circles over any stretch of my skin within reach. Contemplation holds firm across his brow, then softens into a smile he seems to yield to.
“Happy.” He turns to me, sincerity lacing every fleck of light in his eyes. “I don’t remember the last time I felt this happy. This much peace.”
Shifting again, he pulls me close, a kiss pressed firmly to my crown. “You make me happy, Mira.” A whisper and a prayer in one breath.
Tucking my head into the crook of his neck, I let myself surrender. Not the blazing surrender to restraint of the night before. Not the passion etched on my skin in ways I never want to forget.
“Little flame.” The timbre of his voice is barely a current on the wind, his face nestled against my ear. Yes, I am his little flame. And he, my keeper. I don’t have to roar; my inner fire can be quiet with him. Still.
I don’t have to fear the quiet I once thought would be my end when pain and sorrow try to unravel me. Here in his arms, I can just… be.
He lingers a while longer, arms knit tightly around me as though reluctant to let go. I feel it in the way his breath slows against my hair, in the way his hand tightens faintly at my back.
At last he draws in a long breath and shifts, looking down at me with quiet gravity. “I should go. There is much waiting for me today.” His eyes search mine, the weight of his worry unhidden. “I don’t like leaving you.”
I press my palm to his chest, steady against the thrum of his heartbeat. “I’ll be alright. You’ve already given me more than I ever dreamed of here.” A smile tugs at my lips, small but true. “Besides, the library is waiting. I think I could lose myself there for hours.”
His mouth curves, though his brow stays furrowed. “You put on such brave words, little flame, yet I know how heavy all of this must be.” His fingers reverently graze my jaw. “But even in that weight, you shine. Stronger than I ever thought possible. Stronger than I deserve.”
