*Ella*
Ryatt is on me in a second, crushing me to the far wall. I choke on a sob as his arms come around my waist, his face buried in my hair. I know he’s trying as hard as he can to stop this from happening, from giving into his feelings and our bond, and the thought kills me.
I can admit I understand his reluctance. He lost his mother. She died trying to protect him, her love for him the catalyst for her ultimate sacrifice. He sees sending me home in the same light, even if he can’t say it out loud.
I can feel it, though, in the power of his touch. I can feel it in the desperation, fury, and despair flowing off him as his mouth meets mine in the most passionate of kisses.
“I missed you,” I sob, unable to hold the tears back. “I hated that you left me here.”
“Ella—”
I take his face between my hands and force him to look at me. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re done carrying this on your shoulders, alone. I was destined to be here fighting beside you, Ryatt. I’ve never believed your prerogative was to turn me into a weapon you could wield against your father. I never believed, even when I hated you—” I choke on a sudden laugh, noticing how his eyes have softened and misted over. “I knew this was more than the bond, and I’m done fighting it. I love you so much. I always have. I always will. I don’t care if you can’t say it.”
His mouth crushes mine in silent confirmation of what I’ve known since the moment the crowd parted at Isaac’s ball, and Ryatt stood there in that black suit, turning his head to look right at me.
I love him.
I won’t leave him. I can’t.
He picks me up and carries me to the bed, laying me down gently. I wriggle out of my jeans and panties, kicking them away as he pulls his shirt over his head and covers my mouth with his again.
I melt into his touch, closing my eyes as he trails heated kisses down my jaw, my neck, his hands bunching up my sweatshirt and pulling it over my head. The mark he left on my thigh burns as he runs his hand down the curve of my waist.
I tangle my fingers in his hair and pull him down so we’re nose to nose. It surprises him, apparently, because he goes still under my sudden dominance. “You’re mine.”
His eyes flare with feral heat, but his grip on my hips softens. He tenderly cups my cheek, his hips impulsively grinding into mine. “Ella,” he breathes, closing his eyes as he slowly, tenderly, presses the head of his cock against my core.
I arch my hips, moaning as his cock slides over my clit, sending a thrumming ache lighting across my belly and thighs. He rasps a breath, kissing my neck, sucking the tender skin behind my ear before saying, “I can’t live in a world without you in it.”
Fresh tears spring along my lashes. I fight back another sob, clutching his shoulders like my life depends on it. This is enough for me. Maybe it’s desperate, but I’ll take what I can get from him. I understand him in a way others don’t. He’ll never buy me roses. He’ll never get on one knee and ask me to be his wife.
But he’d die for me. He’d raise his sword in my name. He’d let his wolf rip through armies, decimate cities of enemies, if it meant I’d live, and live well.
He’d let me go, even if it killed him, knowing that I’d be safe.
And that’s enough.
“We’re going to get through this. We can—we can start over. We can have an actual life together—” I say, my throat tightening around the words. My voice hangs in the air as he presses his cock inside of me, stretching me, filling me up in a single stroke.
I close my eyes and try to focus on the feel of him instead of the roiling desperation clouding my mind. Why do I feel like this is the last time? Why do I suddenly know that this moment is special, and after this night, we might not ever do this again?
He may never hold me like this again. I know in my heart that we’re running out of time, and that’s why he’s so desperate to get me out of here.
He grinds into me, each thrust slow and deliberate, like he’s trying to memorize how this feels. The idea that he’s feeling just as broken as I am shreds me to ribbons, but I hold on, trying to push the thought away.
I shove against him, my lips crushed to his, and roll us over so I’m on top. Straddling him, I seat myself on his cock and rest my hands on his chest, breathing deeply to try to slow my thundering heart. A single tear rolls down my cheek as I look down at him. His eyes are heavy and dark with emotion, his mouth slightly parted as he tries to catch his breath.
His hands cup my ass and guide my movements. I roll my hips, gliding up and down and side to side until we’re both panting and straining against the tension coiling between us.
He grips my waist, his thumbs resting on my stomach. His eyes drop my face, to my breasts, and then rest on my lower belly.
A warmth spreads through my numb heart at the sight of him looking at where our baby—our child—rests.
I take one of his hands and rest it over where that tiny flicker of life has begun, knowing it’s far too early to know for sure, despite the fact he said my scent has changed and the house, apparently, has become somewhat protective over me in recent days.
“Don’t make me leave,” I whisper, that delicious tension in my core threatening to snap.
He groans as my muscles tense and spasm around his cock, my climax starting to spread through my core to my thighs as I ride him faster, harder.
“Promise me, Ryatt. We’ll do this together. We have to.”
He pulls me down to him, stealing the words with a kiss as he pounds into me, and then spills himself inside of me.
I scream his name as pleasure tears through me stronger than ever before, melting through the despair numbing my heart.
Then I’m on my side, and he’s curled around me, holding me tighter than necessary as he rests his cheek against the side of my head.
It’s quiet for a long moment, nothing but the rain and thunder breaking through the charged silence between us.
“Loving something means having something to lose.”
“You’re not going to lose me. We can win this, Ryatt. I can feel it—”
“You could lose me, Ella.”
I fight to swallow past a lump in my throat. “I don’t want to think about it.”
“If you stay, you have to come to terms with the fact you could easily be alone. We could kill my father together, sure, but if anything happens to me, you’d be ruling alone. Raising this child, alone. Westfall doesn’t have the power to break through the Veil like I can. I don’t think you’d be able to do it, either. I’d rather you go back to your family while I’m still capable of sending you there.”
“You’d kill yourself sending me back, Ryatt.” It’s the truth. I hadn’t realized how much power he’d had to use for that act until I’d started training with Westfall. I’d drained myself entirely just using my powers under the lake, illuminating a lost city.
He’d broken through a barrier made of magic forged by a Goddess.
“You have no one here. Your family—”
“I’m your mate,” I whisper. “Doesn’t that make us family?”
His silence is heavy with pain. “I haven’t had a family since I was five years old.”
I rest his hand on my belly again, knitting my fingers over his. “Well, because of your mad lust and inability to pull out, now you have a new family.”
He groans with laughter behind me, his chest trembling. “What were we thinking?”
“We weren’t,” I whisper, letting his fevered warmth penetrate my skin. “We were just… together. That was all that mattered, I think. That's all that matters now.”
“Ella,” he says against my skin, “I need you to make me a vow.”
“Okay…”
He flips me over so I’m facing him, the two of us laying side by side, and nose to nose. “If anything happens to me, you will go home. The second I tell you it’s time, you will allow me to pierce the veil and send you back. Vow to me that you will go.”
“I will,” I say, but the words wobble off my tongue. “But we have to at least try to fight.”
He smooths my hair away from my face. “We will fight.”
Sleep finds us both within a matter of minutes, and when I wake sometime later, hot sunlight is beaming through the doors leading off the balcony, which had been left open overnight.
I sit up and rub my eyes, blinking into the sunlight while trying to clear my vision. I haven’t slept this late in over a week. I’ve always woken up for training while the moon was still high in the sky.
Ryatt sits in a chair near the foot of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees as he gently taps his foot against the tile, lost in thought.
“What are you doing?” I ask, pulling the sheets up over my breasts.
He looks up at me, his eyes a bright silver in the sunlight. His hair is undone and curling against his shoulders as he takes a deep breath, his gaze locked on mine. “There’s something you need to see, Princess.”
* * *
The room is pitch black. If Ryatt’s fingers weren’t currently laced in mine, I wouldn’t have moved a single inch as the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind us.
This is the room he told me not to explore without him present. A chill snakes up my spine as our footsteps echo through the dark, giving me a sense of just how massive and bare the room must be and how high the ceiling stretches above our head.
“Light your fire,” he says softly, his voice carrying through the still air.
He lets go of my hand, and I have no choice but to let a ball of silver-white fire erupt in my palm—painless and heatless—just to be able to see.
Cold air drifts over my skin as the room fills with light. We’re in a tower, I guess, based on the way the ceiling disappears into total darkness above us despite my firelight. The room is the same obsidian stone as the rest of the castle, and there’s no furniture, no art…
Nothing but a giant mirror in the very center of the room.
“What is it?” I ask, my voice level and low. My heart races as Ryatt edges toward the mirror. Even with my firelight at his back, there’s no reflection in the mirror when he stands in front of it.
Curiosity breaks me out of my stupor. I step closer to the mirror, noticing how the glass shifts and shimmers.
“The same type of magic that turns your paintings into portals created this mirror,” he says, his voice echoing. “The same magic in my sword. Magic we share.” He turns toward me, and his mouth softens into a smile. “Do you want to see how it works?”
“How what works?”
That smile turns to smirk. “You accused me of stalking you, Princess. Now it’s your turn.”
My eyes go wide as the glass begins to swirl, colors bleeding through the darkness.