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Was it since that terrible night he’d found me with Fenyx? How much had I been hiding of myself since then?

I looked past Draven at the Rose Court Throne.

Fashioned from a rich, dark wood, its surface displayed an intricate design of carved thorns and blossoming roses.

Looking at it, I suddenly thought of a way to knock Draven out of this dark stupor. It wasn’t a solution. Just a temporary distraction.

Still, it might be good for him. Good for us both.

I moved past him until I was facing the throne.

In my lifetime, I had seen two men sit on the imperial seat. My father and my brother.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had touched the thing. Even as a child, I had never dared to sit upon it, even for a moment as a child might do in play.

Now I turned my back and slowly sat down.

The throne was massive and the seat was hard. How had Arthur managed to sit there so stoically for hours on end?

I placed my arms along the sides and leaned back.

“What are you doing?” Draven sounded idly curious, nothing more.

“You wanted me on the throne, didn’t you? Here I am.” I smiled coyly. “But it’s a big chair. There might be room for two.”

“Now I know you’re fucking with me.” Draven’s voice had turned slightly hoarse. “Come, let’s go to dinner.”

“Not until you come and share this throne with me. I insist. You’re my mate after all.” I parted my thighs slowly, then ran my hands down over my leather trousers.

Draven let out a low growl. “What are you doing, Morgan?”

I honestly wasn’t quite sure. In fact, part of me was afraid to find out. Especially since there was a crowd of people a few corridors away, all happily enjoying their dinner.

But for now, the Great Hall was completely abandoned. And all of the servants would either be serving in the hall or eating their own meal in the kitchen below.

In other words, this throne was ours for the taking.

“I should think it was perfectly clear.” I let my hands wander over the planes of my stomach, over the white tunic I’d pulled on that day.

Then slowly, slowly up and over my breasts, cupping them a little, feeling the hardness of my nipples.

But then, I’d already known my nipples were hard. They’d been hard ever since I’d come up with this unhinged, probably catastrophic idea.

“I want,” I said slowly, “to feel you inside me. Now. Here. On this throne.”

I watched Draven swallow slowly, then touch a finger to the ring he wore in his left ear as if he were considering my proposition.

“Don’t pretend you’re actually stopping to think about—” I started to say with exasperation.

And then he was above me.

Lowering his face to kiss me as his massive body hovered over me, his hands resting on the back of the throne, his legs spread out on either side of mine.

He practically covered me and the entire throne, and he hadn’t even sat down on the thing.

“Maybe,” I said breathlessly, between kisses, between tongues darting desperately in and out of one another’s mouths as if we hadn’t touched or tasted one another in years instead of just the night before. “Maybe I overestimated the size of this throne. You’re rather large in comparison. On second thought...”

I felt Draven give a low, throaty chuckle. “Too late for second thoughts. But thank you. That’s high praise from my mate.”