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I jerk in Galleghar’s grip, trying to use my wings to shake him. But then Des is there, and then Gallegharisn’t, and the whole thing happens so terribly fast that I get whiplash.

I tumble through the sky, trying to right myself. The universe and all the stars in it spin around me as I fall through the sky.

And then there again is Galleghar, hand at my throat. I slash at him with the dagger in my hand, the blade catching him in the arm. Before he can retaliate, the Bargainer manifests between the two of us, his position forcing his father to release my neck. In his own hand Des grips the sword he carries.

With one swift thrust, Des shoves his weapon into his father’s gut. Galleghar’s eyes go wide as his son jerks it back out of his abdomen. That’s the last I see of the tyrant king as I continue to fall, a cloud swallowing me up.

I desperately try to spread my wings, fighting against wind and gravity. Before I can right myself, Des manifests next to me, scooping my body up in midair.

“We need to get back to Somnia. Now.”

The flight backis nothing like the previous one. Des won’t release me, despite the fact that I’m fine—even if my throat is a little sore. He flies at a punishing pace, the wind howling in our ears as we speed across the sky.

“Where’s Galleghar?” I ask.

“Hidden back in whatever shithole he crawled out of.”

I was wrong about Des needing to release his rage. I don’t think pummeling his father helped at all. If anything, he seemsmoretightly wound.

“So he’s still alive.”

The King of the Night’s nod is barely perceptible.

Damn. Galleghar must be hurting—two broken wings and a couple of gut wounds. Not to mention the punches to the head he sustained.

The Bargainer flies us directly to his chambers, landing silently on his balcony. He sets me on my feet, his wings flaring wide around me, as if to shield me from the world. Des steps into my space, his face impassive. But more than ever, I can sense his tumultuous emotions, from the agitated arc of his wings to his rigid line of his shoulders.

His eyes drop to my lips, and that’s the only warning I get. Reeling me in, he takes my mouth savagely.

His lips are fire, burning against mine.

Take. Claim. Keep.

Maybe he murmurs this, maybe I sense it from our connection, but those three words seem to be the driving force behind his manic energy.

I can feel his wrath and his panic, his frustration and fear all tied up into the slide of his mouth against mine.

I return it with equal intensity. I might be capable of living for centuries, but I can still die like a human can. I felt it there for a moment, when Galleghar was squeezing the life out of me, and again when I was falling. Just because fae call themselves immortal doesn’t mean they are.

I part Des’s lips with my own, tasting his essence as my fingers delve into his soft hair.

Behind me, I hear his balcony doors snick open. He lifts me again, wrapping my legs around his waist.

“I need to be inside you,” he says hoarsely.

I nod against him, my mouth going to his again. Nothing like a brush with death to make you feel amorous. I need to feel alive, and I think Des does too.

The Bargainer steps inside, the doors clicking shut behind him. Not a moment later, my clothes melt off of me, magically removing themselves. Des’s clothes follow suit as he moves us to the bed.

He’s barely laid me on the bed and parted my thighs, when he pulls me to him, thrusting deep inside me.

I gasp as his thick cock stretches me, the sensation a pinch of pain then pleasure, pleasure,pleasure. I revel in the feel of his muscular body pressing down on mine.

“Gods above, cherub.” Des kisses the juncture between my neck and shoulder as he slides out. He pistons in again.

I lean my head back and moan as he fills me, stretches me. He’s need, need, need. I can practically hear him—

Take … Claim … Keep.