Page 115 of The Fallen Fae King

“It’s been over a week. We’ve been camping out safely together in my bedroom. Plotting. But I can feel our darkness’ distress, hunger, and agony through our bond. He can’t last much longer. The cowards are starving him. Did I abandon you when you were in the dungeons?”

“Of course you didn’t. Why would you? I’m brilliant. Look, you have more experience at sneaking into dungeons than I do, but Sin would kick my arse if I let our Omega be put into danger.”

“You’re not letting me do anything.” My eyes narrow. “I may be an Omega, but I am a wolf and an equal to any of you. You don’t get to treat me like a damsel or tell me what to fucking do.”

Daire’s eyes blaze with desire. “On the holy fae, you are a force of bloody nature. I’m sorry. My Wolf Queen, tell me what to do. We made a deal for me to serve you. My heart learned your name long before my lips spoke it. I have waited a lifetime to find you, my soulmate. I worship the ground beneath your bloody feet, love. Let me serve, and I will spend my last breath proving that I was always meant to belong to you.”

My eyes widen.

My core throbs, while I imagine just every way he has already served me in our nest this week.

My cheeks flush.

Yet something nags at my mind at the intensity of his declaration.

“Last breath?” I whisper. “I already believe you. You do belong to me.”

When Daire prowls forward like an ancient trickster fae from the stories that I was taught to fear with his shimmering wings outstretched, my heart speeds up.

When I back against the wall, he reaches to grip my chin.

Daire tilts up my head, and our gazes meet.

I am wrapped in his wild scent of frosty oak and sunshine.

I wish that I could nuzzle my face into his feathers.

I whine.

Daire’s lips quirk.

He raises his thumb to trace it over my lips.

I lean into his touch, desperately needing more. My lips tingle.

“Please…” I whisper.

Daire leans closer, his breath ghosting over mine. “It’s so bloody good to see your beautiful face, love.”

My brow furrows in confusion.

Then he is kissing me, and all thoughts are driven from my mind. His kiss is passionate and tender. His tongue curls around mine, and he clutches at my shoulders.

His wings cocoon us in our own dark world.

I moan, melting against him.

I kiss him deeper, demanding more.

He cups my cheek, before tracing downwards, memorizing the outline of my face.

He kisses me more fiercely, and I cling to him.

At last, he pulls back. “One thing is missing from our Bat King’s dinner.”

Daire’s expression becomes determined, as he draws away from me. He bends over the tray and snatches up the burnished clay cup of goat’s milk.

He blows on the thin layer of cream on the top, before drinking it.