I turn and straddle his lap, pressing my lips against his firmly. His hands go to my hips before sliding down to cup me, pulling me closer to him. He stands up and holds me with one arm, kissing me, while he frees his rigid length with his other hand. I feel his cock press under me as I wrap my legs tighter around him.
The mate bond feels like an electric current under my skin as he slowly undoes the tie of my robe and it falls off my shoulders.
He sits again, keeping me straddling him. His fingers trace patterns along the curve of my breast before teasing a hardened nipple with gentle pinches and twists. He reaches behind him, over his head, and takes a small knife from the wall.
“Hold still,” he whispers. He deftly cuts off the underclothing I wear under my robe.
“Was that necessary?” I nuzzle his neck.
“No. I enjoyed it.” He sets the knife back in its place and lifts me slightly. I lower myself onto his hard cock, breathing deep as he fills me completely.
His rhythm is hard and relentless, each thrust met by an answering rock of my hips.
I squeeze his shoulders as he finds that spot inside me that makes my voice break. Every sound I make seems to drive him closer to his own release.
Our eyes lock as everything in my center pulls tight. He groans and thrusts harder, pushing me over the edge into a shuddering orgasm. His hips jerk against mine as he follows me, releasing himself inside me with a groan.
He rises with me still straddling him and walks to the bed. We collapse together, breathing heavily. His arms stay wrapped around me, his face stays buried in my neck and hair.
I close my eyes, wishing this could last forever.
But knowing now that it won’t.
I jerk awake, body rigid, lungs locked. For a second there is nothing but dark and the taste of copper in my mouth. Then Rythar's scent finds me, cinnamon and skin, and the weight of his hand on my thigh tells me where I am before my eyes adjust. My skin is slick. His hand is dry and hot and already pressing harder, the way it does when he senses something wrong before I've said a word.
The mate bond is humming like a wire in my hand, but there’s also a pulling sensation. It’s the Concord Stone’s gift. The psychic channel. The one that links me to the other brides. It's not the full assault from last time. It's directional. A thread pulled taut between my chest and somewhere I can't see.
Sophia.Her name arrives before the rest of her does. Her mind hits mine like a fist wrapped in ice. Panic, but colder than last time, compressed, the way you compress a wound when there's no one coming to help. She's holding herself together with her teeth. Underneath the control, something is screaming. For an instant, I see what she sees.
A sliver of corridor, bodies in motion, the high ceiling of a different fortress.
Then it cuts off.
The echo stays in my body after the channel closes. My arms are numb. Sophia's fear is still living under my skin. I roll to the edge of the bed and gag on nothing as the feeling returns to myhands. Rythar is already on his feet. I didn't see him move. He's between me and the door, scanning the room for something to kill.
I try to stand. My legs fold. Rythar catches me before my knees hit the floor, one hand at the nape of my neck, the other locked around my waist, pulling me up and into him in one motion. I can feel his heart against my cheek. It's beating hard, but steady. Mine is racing.
“It happened again,” I gasp. “Sophia. I think they’re hurting her.”
He grunts. His jaw tightens. "Or someone wants you to believe they are."
"I felt it, Rythar."
"I know you felt it." His hand is still at my neck, thumb tracing my pulse the way he did the first morning on the rooftop when he made me drink water. "That does not mean it was real."
“I don’t know,” I croak. Either way, my body is still shaking from someone else’s fear.
The alarm pulses through the fortress.
“Is Vorak here?” I glance around, absurdly, like I might see him in Rythar’s quarters.
“Not here.” Rythar is already at the door, helmet under one arm, voice barking into a comm-band. I catch the words “eastern boundary” and “breach,” but I’m too lost in myself for the translation to work smoothly.
He turns to me, eyes burning. “It’s the family homes in the jungle. Proximity alarms are catching multiple intrusions.”
“The ones from other biomes?”
“Yes. I am responsible for keeping these mates and their offspring safe.” He pauses. “These are not attacks that I can ignore.”
