Dark Skye (47 page)

He’d marked her with his horns—and his fangs. She’d accepted his most primal drives. So he leaned up to take her in his arms. As his wings closed around her, she grew even slicker, her tempo increasing.

“I think you like my wings.”

She nodded breathlessly. “You are such a surprise to me. Everything about you . . .”

When he enfolded her against him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and the satisfaction made him quake. It was just the two of them, cocooned against the world, bodies lit by his pulselines.

Her nipples raked up and down his chest. “So when I scream—soon—do you think anyone could hear me past your wings?”

He rose up on his knees, cupping her ass. Pinned on his length, she tightened her legs around him.

“Maybe that’s how the others keep quiet? One way to find out.”

In an urgent whisper, she told him, “I’m so close, Thronos.” She leaned in to suck on his neck in that maddening way, bearing down on him at the same time. When he realized his mate was grinding her needy little bud against the base of his shaft, he spontaneously . . .

Came.
Hard.

His roar reverberated within his wings as he bucked furiously against her, grinding back as he started pumping his seed.

“It’s so hot!” She rode him faster, sending him into a frenzy. “I’m coming, Thronos! You make me feel so—” She tensed against him, her thighs trembling around his sides. Her head fell back against his wings, her climax wrenching a scream from her.

He experienced something like euphoria when her channel demanded its due once more. He eased his thrusts just to feel her spasms rippling up and down his length, her pleasure wringing his so perfectly.

He groaned his lingering disbelief. “My Lanthe . . .”

When her orgasm subsided, he continued to quake—as if his release had generated aftershocks.

With her head tucked against his shoulder, her breaths on his neck, she patted his heaving chest. “There. I claimed you too.”

Late in the night, Lanthe and Thronos lay facing each other, wrapped in his wings. As they’d done when young, they murmured secrets.

All those years ago, he’d told her that he’d be her husband. How right he’d been!

Lanthe had been
claimed.
She’d lost track of all the times he’d taken her, how many times he’d brought her over the edge.

The sheet separating them had been tossed by the wayside.
All
the sheets had. His wings kept them plenty warm.

Now, seeing him with his hair ruffled, looking relaxed and drowsy, made her heart ache.

“Was it like you expected?” she asked.

“Not really, lamb.”

“Tell me.”

He frowned, as if searching for words. “When we first met, I took your scent into me—sky and home. When I’m inside you, I feel like I’ve found the sky for the first time, or returned home after an eternal absence. It’s as if every want and need I’ve ever had, or ever will have, is fulfilled. I hadn’t expected the . . . totality of it.”

Though his admission was one of the most moving things she’d ever heard, he exhaled and said, “I make little sense. Woman, you’ve addled me.” He turned the question on her. “Was it like you expected?”

“No, but in a good way.”

“How so?”

How to explain what she’d felt and learned? “I discovered things tonight, Thronos. So many things.” She stroked his hair from his forehead.
“I felt safe with you, connected
to
you. And those feelings heightened everything. It’s addictive.”

He nodded. “I feel the same. I sometimes wonder what I wouldn’t do for more of you.”

“Exactly. Let’s put it this way—I’m so happy I took your hand earlier.”

Even as his lips curled, his lids grew heavier. She’d never seen him sleep. He hadn’t in weeks, but now that he’d released tension and was back in his own bed, she hoped he could. “You should rest.” She motioned for him to go to his back, then draped herself over his chest. His strong arms twined around her. “We have a big day tomorrow.” Words she’d despaired of ever saying to a significant other.

“I’m reluctant to sleep.” He pulled her even closer to him. “Fear you won’t be here when I wake.”

His gruff words made the ache in her heart worse. “We’re married now. I’m not going anywhere.” And she meant it. He was her husband, her lover, her prince.

Thronos was her best friend.

Though she worried what tomorrow would bring, she believed in
them.

As he was drifting off, he said, “With all my dreams having come true, what will I dream of now?”

Oh, damn.
Lanthe gazed at his face in sleep.
I just fell in love with him.

T
he brightest sunlight Lanthe had ever encountered blazed down on her. The harsh light of day—and she had zero regrets. Still, she grumbled, “I feel like Private Benjamin!”

“Don’t know who that is, Lanthe.”

She could
hear
the grin in his voice. “Turn off the light!”

“I can’t turn off the sun.”

She cracked her eyes open to find him sitting at the edge of the bed, looking like a boss. “Well, aren’t you happy with yourself?” His smile was brilliant against his crisp linen shirt.
Glorious male.

He nodded. “I woke this morning, disoriented, convinced last night had been a reverie. Then I gazed down and your head was upon my chest. I comprehended that we are wed.” He gazed deeply into her eyes. “There has never been a better morning.”

This was a world away from her typical morning-after scenarios. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Couple of hours. I enjoy watching you sleep.”

With anyone else, Lanthe would have found that creepy, but not with her new husband.

In any case, she couldn’t talk since she’d mooned over his relaxed,
sleepy face until she’d dozed off. Then she’d been out like the dead. No nightmares. No restlessness.

“Come, I’m eager to introduce you to our people.”

Bully.

“We’ll find you a grand breakfast. Apple tartlets, maybe? Or honey bread?”

She
was
hungry. “Okay, okay. I need a shower first.” When she rose and knotted her hair above her head, his gaze fell on her breasts, his brows drawn tight. As she padded into the bathroom, she knew he was ogling her ass so she put an extra spring in her step.

His growl made her grin. She’d wager she wasn’t leaving this house before he took her again.

She checked her appearance in the mirror. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks pinkened. She felt a tinge of regret to see that his claiming mark had healed.

In the shower, she called, “Hey, can we get the hot water fixed?” She’d turned the single lever all the way right, but the water never approached warm.

“In the Territories, there is no hot water for showers,” he called back.

To herself, she muttered, “You’ve got to be shitting me.” She sucked in a breath and stepped under, screeching, “This isn’t right—I didn’t join the army!”

He came to gloat, leaning against the doorway with a barely checked grin. “We Vrekeners find cold water’s good for the mind and body.”

“Oh? That’s a shame—because hot water’s good for morning sex.”

His eyes flickered. “I’ll warm you up. . . .”

Some time later, when they emerged, Lanthe was a cold-water convert. Now
she
was grinning like a boss.

After she dried off, she reached for her clothes from the night before. Full regalia. Including the mask.

The beauty of metal and leather garments? Easy cleaning. She tugged on her skirt.

“Shall I find you some gowns?” he asked as he dressed again.

She studied his face. “You can, but I won’t wear them until I have them altered.” Lanthe had lived through the Victorian age; out of necessity, she’d learned how to transform a high-necked, floor-length, long-sleeved gown into a proper sleeveless minidress. Or, rather, to give directions for someone else to. “I’ll feel more comfortable in my own clothes.”

He parted his lips, hesitated, then said, “Very well.”

Good man,
she thought again. “I feared we were about to have our first married fight.” She slipped on her top. As far as Sorceri clothing went, the outfit wasn’t even
that
provocative. Her hemline almost reached her knees. Her boots did, so little of her legs would be exposed.

“I know how much you compromised to come here with me,” he said. “I want to meet you halfway. Besides, if you scream at me, it should only be because you’re about to erupt/explode/die with ecstasy.”

“In other words, later today?” She reached forward to cup him between the legs, loving how he rocked on his toes to her hand.

When he groaned, she released him with an affectionate pat.

She donned her boots and gauntlets, then did a quick job braiding her hair. Thronos watched her every movement with undisguised fascination.

“Grab my necklace?”

He hastened to get it, returning to lace it over her head. “I kick myself for not giving you this sooner.”

“Well, we were a mite preoccupied with dragons and demons and pests and all. I treasure it as if you presented it to me—since you put your life at risk to retrieve it. Even if it weren’t silisk gold, it would always be my favorite.”

“Sorceri exchange rings with marriage, do they not?”

She whirled around. “Yes, I want a ring! A gold one, with extra gold.”

His lips curled. “When my mate sets her heart on something, who am I to deny her?”

With an answering grin, she slipped on her mask. “Okay, then, let’s go get this over with.”

He offered his hand; she proudly took it.

The moment they walked out the door, a Vrekener male greeted them, as if he’d been loitering just outside. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a rangy build like Thronos’s, he had olive-green eyes and sandy brown hair tied in a queue.

Lanthe stiffened when she saw his silvered talons. A knight. She wondered how many Sorceri he’d killed. Or neutered?

“Greetings, Jasen!” Thronos said. “I didn’t think anyone knew we’d arrived.”

Lanthe frowned at Jasen’s reaction to Thronos; the male’s pensive expression had turned to one of abject relief, the way one might look when handing over a ponderous weight—or a rabid animal.

“Melanthe, this is Jasen,” he said, introducing the man to her first, showing her deference. “Jasen, this is Princess Melanthe, my bride.”

“You . . . you
have
her.”

Lanthe didn’t offer her hand. Because it was glimmering blue behind her back.

After a moment, Jasen appeared to shake away his shock at this development. He turned to Thronos. “My liege, the knights have assembled in the Hall for an important security meeting. Will you attend?”

“Is my brother here?”

“No, my liege, I’m afraid he’s not.”

Thronos was calm and cool on the outside, but now that she knew him better she could see that his scars were a touch lighter, which meant his face was tense.

—I’m sorry, Thronos. I know you’d wanted to get something settled with Aristo.—

—Gods only know what he’s up to out in the worlds.—
To Jasen, he said, “Melanthe and I will attend.” Hand in hand, they followed the knight down the steps to the sandy vale.
—In this assembly, I will not tolerate disrespect to you. Remember that you are their princess.—

Talk about a trial by fire! She drew her sorcery close. —
I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go. What if the meeting is about my presence here? What if I’m in danger?—

He glanced at the power swirling around her.
—You can take care of yourself. Just try not to hurt anybody.—

—Ha.—

—You know I’d slay them all before I let them touch a hair on your head.—

On the hills above them, Vrekeners stopped their daily routines to stare down at her.

What would Sabine do in this situation? Her sister would put her shoulders back and never let anyone forget she was a noble daughter of the Sorceri. Lanthe would do no less. To those who stared the most boldly, she inclined her head with a regal air.