*Ella*
I’ve never seen anything like the look he just gave me in my life. I’m in serious trouble now.
I need this more than anything. I need that numb, out of body experience that I can only achieve with Ryatt. I need a break from my own mind, especially after what happened tonight.
I don’t remember how we got back to this house, but I remember snippets of the past hour, at least. Ryatt cursing under his breath as he kicked open the front door with me shivering in his arms. Ryatt ripping my dress off my frozen body while scalding hot water pummeled my skin. Ryatt begging me to wake up, to come back to him, tugging on that bond between us while he covered me with his naked body in our bed to try to keep me warm.
Heat funnels through the room. A bead of sweat rolls down my spine as I continue to look at him over my shoulder, my fingers gripping the headboard like it’s my only lifeline.
He takes a heaving breath, his eyes locked on mine, and his expression shifts from that feral bloodlust surging with desire to something that makes me realize I’m either about to have the time of my life, or I’ve really done it this time and he’s going to kill me.
A sly, cocky smile touches his lips.
Oh, no. Maybe it’s both.
He lunges toward me, and I yelp in surprise as he grips my hips, his fingers digging into my skin. His hands run up and down my sides, then roughly cup my breasts.
And then he’s beneath me, his hands on my hips again pulling me down onto his face.
“Oh, my Goddess–” I suck in a breath and cry out when his tongue parts my sex and glides over the wet heat pooled between my thighs.
He growls low in his throat, a sound of pure male satisfaction, before he ravages me with his tongue like I’m a feast laid out for a king, and he’s a starving man.
“You taste like paradise,” he rasps, then grazes his teeth over my most sensitive places.
My hands fall from the headboard as I unravel, losing myself entirely to his touch, his tongue, and then his fingers.
I grind against that touch, riding his fingers while he laps at my clit, each growl and groan of pleasure from him sending ripples of vibrations over my skin and igniting a kind of pleasure I’ve never known before.
I clutch my breasts, rolling my neck and letting my head fall back. “Oh, Ryatt–Oh, please–”
My mind goes blissfully blank. My skin heats like I’m on fire. My heart races like it’s about to burst from my chest. I can’t take it. Every touch is too much, but also not enough. The room around us fades, and then it’s just me and him. Me, and my mate. My mate, my mate…
The man I’d come back to, even though the veil between my world and his was so faint under that water I could have reached out and stroked my brother’s cheek. I could have gone home. I felt it in my bones as the moonlight began to drift back into view.
But I let my moment slip away. I’d let them go and fought like hell to get back to my mate with the last shreds of my power before I drowned.
A sob works its way up my throat as I realize, with startling clarity, that this is so much more than just the mate bond between us.
And it hurts. It hurts so much to know that he may never love me like I’m beginning to love him.
The tension building between us pulls me out of my own head and back to the present. I grind against his tongue, panting, desperate for that epic release only he can give me. Desperate for him, for all of him, his body, his heart, his soul.
I roll my head back and scream his name as I unravel, that exquisite pleasure surges through my body and brings new life to the powers I’d drained to the last drop. I scream his name loud enough to send it echoing through the stifling room, his shadows dancing around us as the fire roars in unison with my voice.
His eyes are on my face as I look down. Is that love behind his eyes, or just my imagination? Have I lost my mind entirely, or when he kisses my inner thigh, do his canine teeth sharper slightly as they graze my skin.
I hold his gaze. His eyes darken, the corners of his mouth tilting into a hungry smile, and then he bites down with all of his strength.
My scream is silent, but my entire body shakes as sudden, unearthly power rips over my skin. He pulls his mouth away, his lips tinged crimson with my blood and his eyes nearly roll back in his head at the same moment I feel our bond snap into place at its full strength.
I can’t describe it. I couldn’t put it into words if I tried, but it’s like I’d been living my entire life missing a piece of myself, and I finally found it.
His. I am his. There’s no question who my soul, my body, and heart belong to.
His power snakes through my veins, numbing the pain of the mark he inflicted. I feel myself falling to the side, my back hitting the mattress and my head lolling over the side of the bed.
I close my eyes as he rises over me and pulls me toward him, tenderly covering my body with his, and then he nudges my knees apart and enters me, his cock buried to the hilt.
He lets out a sigh dripping with relief, like he’d been waiting for this. Like he’d been desperate to move within me, each stroke slow and tender like he’s savoring the feel of me.
“Ryatt,” I breathe, my eyes heavy as I look up at him. I trail my fingers over his cheek and jaw, then into his hair, memorizing every sharp line and scar, taking him in.
His lips hover over mine as he thrusts deep, letting out a groan, and then he kisses me. “Mine,” he whispers, his hand resting gently on my hip. “My Ella. Mine.” Each word is like a prayer. They settle in my heart where that thin silver thread that binds us squeezes my soul with each thrust, each kiss, each murmured word of possession.
“Mark me, Princess,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my neck as he plunges deep inside of me with a groan, his body trembling.
“Are you sure?” My voice sounds far away as I look up into his eyes. “We can’t take this back.”
My answer is a kiss so deep it takes my breath away. Tension coils between my thighs again, heightened by each thrust of his cock, by the way he grinds his hips against mine.
I trail my fingers down the column of his neck, over the swirling tattoos and flow down his chest and over his shoulders.
“Do it,” he whispers, and he thrust into me with more intensity, picking up the pace.
My toes curl as his cock hits that spot that sends my head spinning.
“Mark me, Ella,” he commands through gritted teeth like he’s holding himself back.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders, burying my face in his neck and cry out as he makes me come again, and again. I sink my teeth into his flesh on impulse, like I’m trying to ground myself against his body as surges of pleasure rush through my legs and belly.
A metallic taste fills my mouth at the same moment he cries out, clutching me hard, and presses his cock deep inside of me.
He holds me there for what feels like an eternity. My head spins as a type of exhaustion I’ve never felt before creeps through my body.
He pulls away slowly, his eyes on my face. “Are you all right?” His fingers trail over the mark he left on my inner thigh. It throbs as it heals, but doesn’t hurt that badly anymore.
“I’m not on a contraceptive tonic,” I say.
“I don’t care,” he says in a voice full of smoke. “I made that clear earlier tonight.”
“I could get pregnant if we keep doing this.”
My eyes are closed when he kisses me, my arms prostrate and heavy as I stretch out on the bed. His hands rest on my hips as he says, “Don’t tempt with a good time, Princess.”
I manage to let out a short laugh as he pulls away.
“Go to sleep, Ella.”
He gets up and walks to the closet.
“Where are you going?”
He pulls on a white shirt and the blood trailing from the mark I left on his neck soaks into the fabric. I watch his body move as he steps into a pair of pants and then shrugs on that leather jacket he always wears and seems to be extra careful with regardless of the situation. “We’re leaving at dawn, which is only a few hours away.”
“Where are we going?”
“Home,” he says simply, tucking his hands into his pockets as he faces the bed.
I sit up, drawing the sheets up to my chest as I meet his eyes. “Where’s home?”
* * *
Hannah sits up in the four poster bed facing the massive crystal doors overlooking a sweeping balcony with a view of the lake. The room is insane. It’s absolutely stunning and luxurious in a way neither of us have experienced.
I rest my head on her shoulder as we stare outside, neither of us speaking.
Her fingers are knitted in mine, her thumb gently stroking the curve between my thumb and forefinger.
“I like it here,” she says lightly, and her words settle the crippling anxiety I feel over leaving her behind.
“They’re going to take care of you. They swore an oath to Ryatt. You’ll be safe until we can bring Cassian here.”
She swallows, her eyes still locked on the lake in the distance. “I led him on, Ella. This summer, after the war, when he came home…” She sucks in a breath that rattles its way down her throat.
“You weren’t ready, Hannah. It’s all right.”
“He is far too good for me. He’s a Beta, for Goddess’ sake. He could have anyone.”
“You’re his mate–”
“I went with you because I wanted to, Ella.”
I fight the urge to shake her, biting down on words I know I’ll regret.
“You love him. You’ve always loved him, I know that’s true. He is your mate.”
“I left him, and now I’m dying, and he’ll come here, with all of you going through all of this trouble to help me when I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve him.” The peachy color on her cheeks fades back to that gray tinged color that makes my blood boil to see. She’s getting sicker and sicker with each passing day and losing the will to live.
I want to ask her why she thinks that, why she doesn’t believe she deserves his love, why she’d rather waste away than fight, but figures darken the doorway. It’s time for me to go. Time for me to leave her here, in the care of the coven.
I wrap her in my arms and squeeze her. “Promise me you’ll get better. Promise me you’ll keep fighting.”
She nods as I pull away, but she doesn’t look me in the eyes.
The room closes in on me as I walk toward where Ryatt is waiting with Granger and Ravenna, the Witch Queen.
“She’s in good hands,” Ravenna says. “No harm will come to her.”
“Keep us updated on her condition. I will be checking in,” Ryatt says in warning, his voice clipped and cold as healers funnel into the room and shut the door behind them while we stand in the hallway.
Ravenna bows her head, and that's it. No formal goodbyes. No further questions.
I follow Ryatt and Granger through the palace, my stomach in knots.
The sun has just begun to rise when we reach the inn and join the group of men waiting outside, all of them dressed for a long journey.
Amanda stands with them wearing a cloak, her hood shielding her face, but she locks her eyes on mine as we approach, giving me a look that conveys that the two of us have a lot to talk about.
“Artyom, Thorne, you will lead the men back to the Roguelands and intercept the rest of my forces at Granite Rise. Artyom, you will send a legion of men to each pack to guard their territories. Thorne, you will lead a unit into Twin Rivers and defend the road leading back to the Roguelands until I’m able to join you.”
Both men nod to convey their understanding while unease curls through my veins like a snake.
Granger edges toward Artyom, pulling a blade free from his belt. Like Ryatt’s sword, it’s encrusted with gems of incredible clarity, and the blade itself gleams with silver. He hands it to Artyom. “Payment for the Princess of Granite Rise. Give this to the Alpha.”
I steal a glance at Amanda, who keeps her eyes on her boots, her expression unreadable.
Did Granger just buy her?
The men waste no more time and walk away, disappearing over the hill toward the mountains.
Ryatt extends a hand to Granger, who wraps an arm around Amanda’s waist and hauls her toward us. Ryatt meets my eyes as he extends his free hand to me.
I arch my brow. “What are you doing?”
“We’re going home,” he says. “Take my hand. Do not let go of it again.”
I do, and then everything goes black.