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“Like that. You feel this, how much I need you?” His lips pressed against my ear. “I’ve wanted this since Wolfrest, Sterre, since I saw you walk down those stairs in that dress and stare at me with defiance in your gaze when you thought I’d called you a doormat.”

He rocked his hips against mine, and I moaned. His knot was right there, barely pressing in before disappearing again. His thumb brushed my clit, slowly circling it.

“And now we’re here.” His voice sent a shiver down my spine. “Come for me, Sterre. Let them see what you look like when I claim you, when I fill your body with more pleasure than you can take.”

He pressed down on my clit, almost pinching it. I exploded, stronger than a damn bomb. I arched as I cried out, my hold tightening enough on his legs I knew my nails drew blood. Rational thought was gone, nonexistent. There was only the pulsing sensation in my limbs, in my clit. Purely male satisfaction filled the bond as he continued his pace, his breathing at last growing ragged.

“Trust me,” he whispered, the words as ragged as his breathing. “Trust I won’t truly hurt you.”

I nodded. “I trust you.”

A heartbeat later, he cursed viciously and then surged into me, harder and stronger than before. His knot pushed into me, forcing me apart. My scream this time was tinged with a desperate panic. His hold tightened in my hair as I scrabbled at his legs, his hips, his stomach, trying to find a way to make the burning ease. He pulled away, and I sucked in a wounded gasp. Then he surged again, and there was no thought at all. The orgasm was stronger than any I’d ever felt, stealing my sense of self along with my ability to see, to hear. My toes curled, and slick soaked my legs, so much I could feel it dripping to the mat beneath us.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he seated himself truly, fully against me for the first time, his knot entirely inside me. He pulsed inside me, and he gasped out his own release, his pleasure a fire in the bond that I wanted to hold and wrap around me, soak in until it was all I ever knew. The desire, the need was so strong, it sought for a release. I scratched up his back and neck, pulling his hair, desperate for anything to ease everything happening inside me.

“Breathe for me.”

It was a command, spoken low and rough. I shuddered in a gasp, and he nuzzled my ear, deftly avoiding the bleeding marks of his bite.

“That’s it. You were made for this, for me and my knot.” He ran his lips along my collarbone, and somehow the touch was enough of an anchor as I slowly fell back to earth, remembered how to exist in my body.

“You’re mine, Sterre,” he murmured in the hollow of my throat, “and I’m yours.”

48

CALLUM

Amethyst relaxed completely under me, her eyes fluttering closed. There was no edge to her scent that said the rite had started her heat in truth. I carefully eased onto my knees, bringing her with me. She moaned as the movement pushed my knot deeper, and I swallowed my own ragged groan. Somehow, I managed to arrange us so her body was hidden from the view of the Votarists, her ceremonial garb still mostly intact. She was boneless against me, her cheek warm against my shoulder. Blood from the bite smeared on my chest, but I ignored it for now. There would be plenty of time to clean up and tend to the wounds.

Now I simply traced the translation mark and the column of her throat and the slope her shoulder. I pressed a kiss into the sensitive juncture of her neck and shoulder, luxuriating in the way she shivered, her vanilla and oranges wrapping tighter around us both.

I glanced up as the Votarists slowly left the room. The one who had overseen our rites moved last, carefully easing around the altar without touching any of the items. The book with our names was in their hands again, the same as when they’d entered the room. They made no comment as they walked around me, near enough I could feel the air displaced by their robes. I tightened my hold on Amethyst, keeping her plastered to me, responding to a primal drive I was in no headspace to be rational about.

My knot released as he reached the door the others had left through. Our combined releases spilled from her in a rush as I pulled her off me and nestled her more closely against my chest, an arm now under her knees. The Votarist didn’t look back toward us, only closing the door softly behind them. Even still, Amethyst shivered against me. In the next heartbeat, her scent changed. I grunted as it hit me, more intense than any punch to the gut I’d weathered. My cock was hard again in an instant, and my chest rumbled with a purr. She whined, the sound a desperate thing in the back of her throat, and I tightened my hold on her.

There it was. Her heat.

A different door, the one she’d used, opened, and a scribe entered the room. They paused when I whipped my gaze toward them, the growl primal, instinctual. I wanted no one near Amethyst when she was so vulnerable, even someone sworn to the pantheon. The man held his hands out in supplication, the light of the sconces catching on the two gold studs in the shell of his ear.

“No harm, alpha,” he said softly. “Let me help you get her somewhere safe so you can care for her.”

She writhed in my arms, her lips running along my shoulder, her teeth biting down as a shiver wracked her body and her scent redoubled. I swallowed my own groan and eased to my feet, nodding in acceptance of the scribe’s offered help.

He didn’t flinch at my nudity, only holding the door open and then leading me through a maze of doors that were empty of decoration or people. The last door he opened revealed a utilitarian bedroom and attached bathing chamber not unlike the one I grew up in. Sun filtered through the window that overlooked the countryside south of Starguard, one of the farming collectives just visible in the distance. I barely heard the man as he explained how to request food with an enchanted coin not unlike the one used in the Medean archives as I set Amethyst on the made bed. She twisted toward me, her eyes unseeing as she grabbed my knee with surprising force, holding me immobile. A pulse of desire echoed across the new bond.

“We traditionally do not allow any interruptions…” The scribe trailed off.

I forced my attention back to him.

“Simeon and Phoebe Norrix as well as Vincent Orsin.”

I couldn’t manage a full sentence. Amethyst’s scent wrapped around me, more tempting than anything I’d ever known. Thankfully, the scribe didn’t seem to need anything more than the names. He nodded and slipped from the room, closing it firmly behind him. The latch sliding into place made Amethyst flinch, and she gasped. Tears welled in her unseeing eyes, and she trembled even as she tried to pull me closer to her.

“W-wisteria,” she murmured. She pulled on my knee again, and I was forced to rest it on the bed beside her to keep from falling. She made a satisfied noise and then ran her tongue along my thigh, more brazen than she’d ever been. “Wisteria.” Then, her eyes focused all at once, and she stared straight into my soul. “Knot.”

I didn’t resist her, only stripped her from her ceremonial garb—setting both brooches on the simple nightstand—and then pulled her into my arms, arranging us so she sat astride me. Her hands pressed into my chest, tensing and relaxing in time with her racing heart.

“Wisteria,” she muttered again.