I cup his cheek, his beard rasping against my palm. “I love you too, Vale.”
Leaning into each other, we seal our fate with a kiss as he enters me. I gasp as he pushes to the hilt in one deep, consuming thrust. My hips rock to meet him. I am his. He is mine.
We move together, rhythm found again. His hand scoops under my back, lifting me to him with each wave. My head presses back into thepillow. He is everywhere—heat, weight, scent. He carries me through each crest, my nails scoring his back as my tender heat wraps around his rigid length. Each cry of his name becomes a claim. Each thrust a vow. My scream rips through the chamber as release seizes me.
He lays me down, breath ragged, and collapses beside me—still hard, still wanting. My fire unleashed, I shift until I straddle him, lowering myself until I take him completely. Groaning at the sensation, his hands grip my hips. I move in slow, steady circles, pressing down, my clit aching with each stroke.
I begin to rock my hips, coaxing more groans from him. He pulls himself up against the pillows, bringing me with him. His palm splays between my shoulder blades as my hair cascades down my back. His mouth finds my breast, tongue flicking at my nipple until I buck wildly. He eases back, eyes drinking me in. “Gods, you’re luminous.”
I shake my head with a sly smile and give myself over to him and to my own hunger. Moving wickedly, his thumb finds my tender bud and draws me toward another climax. The rise and fall of my body, chasing that release for us together, consumes us both. His roar joins my shattering cries, a confluence of need and want sated as one.
I linger there, still straddling him, my hand on his chest as I steady myself. Every part of me tingles as I feel the quickened pulse of me draw out every last drop of his release.
Our breaths slow, becoming steady. He pulls me close as I sink down beside him, his lips brushing my temple in a silent prayer as his arms wrap me wholly.
The fire dies low in the hearth, embers dimming to a quiet glow. Moonlight pools across the stone floor, pale and patient, the only sign any world beyond us exists at all. Wrapped together beneath the blanket, skin still humming, our breaths fall into rhythm with the hush of the night until sleep takes us both.
For once, I am not locked in a chase with sleep. It comes willingly, wrapping me in warmth and promise.
“I love you,” I whisper one last time into the night. And for a heartbeat, I swear the world itself bows to listen—as if prophecy had been waiting for these words.
Chapter Twenty
Gentle pressure travels across my neck and shoulder as I wake. My body twists and stretches in greeting.
“Good morning.” The rumble of his voice sends a shiver down my spine. His mouth claims mine the moment I turn to face him.
“Good morning indeed.” I smile back; the golden sun proof he’s held me well into morning. “It would seem I’m not the only one willing to stay.” My voice drops low and sweet.
I wrap my leg around him and his smile widens.
“I love you. Whether I return to my chambers before morning light or not, it’s only a matter of time before it’s apparent to all.”
“Do you think Soria is waiting outside the door until it’s safe?” I muse with a laugh.
“If she is, then we shall fetch her a chair. I’m not going anywhere yet.” He pulls me closer, our bodies waking more at the memory of last night. It’s a call we both gladly answer.
Sunlight catches the bare lines of his shoulders as if even the day is glad we’ve both chosen to stay—he in my bed and I in this kingdom I am slowly coming to know. As the room brightens, so too does my spirit. As if the world, for once, is smiling back. The joy of us both being precisely where we belong.
Breath ragged as sweat glistens, the sheets lie tangled before he kisses me farewell and sets about his day.
“What’s this nonsense about a chair?” Soria bustles in moments later, intent on readying me for the day. She stops when she finally looks at me as I cinch the robe around my waist. “Well, someone’s having a pleasant morning. You’re positively glowing.”
My cheeks flush—from the rush of morning, from being seen with such discerning eyes, but mostly from the way my heart soars. I take a seat before the mirror as Soria reaches for the brush.
I glance out the window to the blue sky beyond; everything feels full of hope and promise. “I can’t help it. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. That I’ve ever been…” My words falter, unsure if I should reveal something so sacred as love.
She runs long, slow strokes through my hair, taking time to choose her words in that way of hers that makes each one feel measured. “I’m happy for you, I am. Both of you. I’ve known him long enough to see how changed he is with you here.” Another pause threatens to undo my bliss.
“But…” I prompt, needing to know what she holds back.
She meets my gaze in the mirror—no-nonsense, yet kind. My shoulders sink, and air leaves my lungs in a heavy sigh. “I’m mortal,” I concede, giving shape to what she would not.
The brush continues, as if the simple task lightens the weight of the moment. “It’s hard enough, but for those whose hearts are true, they say it’s worth it. But his isn’t just any heart, my dear.” She sets the brush on the table and places her hands on my shoulders. “A king has certain responsibilities, expectations…”
“Duty.” I interrupt—the lone word feeling like the greatest threat I’ve ever known. She nods. I straighten, sitting tall and resolute as her fingers gather sections of my hair into a braid.
Each step as Soria helps me ready for the day, I feel the war inside me—the euphoric high of choosing to stay beside the man I love and the quiet fear of those who would fight to see anyone but me next to him. The turmoil must show on my face as I carry books to my usual spot beside Ace in the library.
