Page 288 of Burn of the Everflame

He pulled back just enough to bring his shining, blue-grey eyes to mine. With a reverent breath and a single thrust, we became one in a way that death could never undo.

The bond fell silent, content at last. Here in his arms, I was complete. Not because I was empty without him—because the safe landing of his love gave me the courage to fall, and to fly.

Luther cradled my head and tipped his forehead to mine. I loved the dark dominance that smoldered within him, but there was something so earnest about the way he held me now. I felt his love for me in every slow, indulgent thrust and burst of bliss each time he drove inside me. I felt it in his attentive shadows, making sure that every part of me felt cherished and held. I felt it in his kiss, every press of his lips a promise spoken in words unheard.

My nails dragged through his hair, my own scalp tingling with an echo of his pleasure, and a dark, husky rumble rolled from his throat. He hooked his arms behind my thighs and pulled them up, shifting to drive himself deeper. He growled his praise—You feel so good, so fucking right. My perfect mate, look how beautiful you are with me inside you.—and I moaned my devotion—I’m yours. Only yours. Always yours.

Release came far too quickly, and neither of us had the strength to pull away. Luther’s godhood slipped its leash, exploding through the room with a thousand twinkling stars, and we tumbled over the edge together in a blinding, shimmering glow.

“Your eyes,” he breathed. He gazed at me in reverent surprise, brushing a thumb across my brow. Light danced across his face and all over the room, a strange assortment of blue and silver and orange.

I shifted beneath him, sending another wave of desire crashing through me, and my eyes squeezed shut, the moment forgotten in a haze of mind-consuming bliss.

The fall felt never-ending. Through the bond, my pleasure reignited his, and his stoked mine, and our bodies trembled with crest after crest. I cried out his name as he spilled inside me, then buried my face into his neck and clenched around his pulsing cock. “My gorgeous mate,” he murmured, working me through my climax with slow rolls of his hips. “Give it all to me. I’ve got you.”

When at last we were both spent, he rolled to his back and took me with him, nestling me against his heaving chest while we fought to catch our breath. We’d shared nights together that had been more exerting, but what the bond needed tonight was something else. Luther had been everything I swore I never wanted; I was everything he thought he couldn’t have. Lately, fate felt determined to pull us apart.

This curse, at least, we’d defied.

He brushed my hair from my face and pressed his lips to my forehead, letting them linger there as he held me close. The joy radiating from him was contagious, and I found myself grinning like a fool against his chest.

“It feels wrong to be this happy in the middle of war,” I said, only half joking.

“It shouldn’t,” he said. “Our minds need joy for the same reason our bodies need helmets and armor.”

His words set my thoughts in motion, tumbling faster and faster as an idea began to form. Slowly but surely, the path ahead of me sharpened into focus.

A way to save my people.

If only I could find a way to save myself.

64

DIEM

Iyawned, rubbing at my eyes as the dawning sun streamed through the front door. Though I could feel the burn of Luther’s stare, I didn’t dare turn my head to meet it.

A foreign yet by now very familiar pressure stirred between my legs, and I let out a laugh. “You’re ready again?”

“I think I see a spot against the wall we missed,” he rumbled in my ear.

Luther had promised to christen our future home by fucking me against every square inch of the house, and by the gods, he was a man of his word. The night had brought little rest and even less sleep.

“You’re relentless,” I teased.

“Did you think I would tire of pleasing you, mate?” His hand dragged through my slick center, and he smirked at the evidence that he was not the only one aching and ready. “Look at me.”

“Absolutely not.” I wriggled from his hold, crawling toward the shredded remnants of my dress. His fingers closed around my ankle, and the wicked memory of the night before shivered through me.

“Look at me,” he repeated, voice low with command.

“Not a chance.”

I squealed when he dragged me back, then gasped as his palm slapped hard against my ass. Unfortunately for Luther’s desire for control, I loved the punishments as much as the fight. I managed to pull free from his grip and get to my feet, snatching his ripped tunic from the ground and slipping it over my head. I turned to the sun and let it spill across my skin, tugging the fabric aside just enough to let the light catch on the shimmering ink of my mark.

My teeth bit hard into my lip to hold back my grin at what I knew was coming next.

Before I even heard him move, my back hit the wall, Luther’s hand careful to cushion my head from the blow. “You’re wearing my clothes,” he growled, grinding against me. “Do you know what that does to me?”