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And then poor Sir Bertram and his coterie must have stepped around the corner.

There were gasps. Some shocked. Some admiring. Some both.

But they were all short-lived.

Shadows swept around us, concealing us from view.

“There,” Draven whispered. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Took you long enough.” I gasped as he shifted his fingers against my swollen clit, stroking it until I whimpered loudly.

A heat was building inside me as the shadows swirled and shifted around us.

“I believe it’s time this tour took a slight detour,” Sir Bertram announced hurriedly to the group. “Perhaps the gardens. Or perhaps we’ll continue this tomorrow. Yes, or better yet, next week. Once I’ve conferred with the castle staff on the best route we should take on future tours.”

I pictured the poor man wiping a handkerchief across his brow.

“By the Three, I had no idea this room was considered closed to the public at dinnertime,” he moaned, his voice becoming more distant as the group moved across the room.

“Why, I do believe you’ll be invited to a very special private meeting with the empress soon, Sir Bertram,” suggested the same woman who had giggled earlier. “I only pray it won’t end in your banishment.”

She snickered to show she was only teasing, but I still heard poor Sir Bertram let out a pained groan of fear. I hoped she had gotten a good eyeful. The cheeky lady.

Then their footsteps were moving out the door and I was alone in the spun web of shadows with my mate.

A fever was simmering in me. My scream had been suppressed, but now the tension in my body was searching for another way out.

“Look down, Morgan,” Draven said, his tone odd. “Look down and see yourself.”

I did as he said and gasped.

Liquid fire was moving under my skin, beneath the markings that were usually silver.

“You’re boiling over inside, aren’t you?” he observed, sounding amused at my predicament. “Let yourself erupt for me. Come for me, Morgan. Come for me, my queen, my empress.”

He pushed deep into me, and I cried out, my orgasm exploding in a wave of white heat and burning stars. Scorching flames danced over my flesh and pushed into the shadows around us, mixing fire and darkness together.

I screamed without caring who heard us, my voice echoing off the stones. I felt my mate groan and burst at the same time, his release filling me with a second source of pleasure.

When it was over, Draven’s mouth danced over my breastbones.

I shivered. His mouth hovered right over my scars. The ones Florian had carved into me. It seemed so wrong to be marked even now with another man’s name when there was only one I would ever willingly belong to.

Draven traced the scars with his fingertips. “Someday these marks will fade. These scars you wear like shields against the world. Marks of your resilience, testaments to your strength.” He met my eyes. “They don’t bother me, Morgan. Just like nothing that came before this, before us, could ever bother you. The lovers we had, whoever they were... They’re meaningless now, aren’t they?”

It was true. I felt no jealousy. No pain. Not even when I thought of Vesper. And as for the lovers Draven must have had? And I had no doubt there had been many. I felt only pity for them. He had left all of them behind.

He was mine now. Here, now, and forever.

“When I see these scars, do you know what I really see?” my mate asked.

I shook my head.

“I see forever with you by my side. Because long after these scars have faded away to nothing, I’ll still be standing beside you. You and I? We’re eternal.”

There was a lump in my throat that I tried to swallow. I had no words, so a kiss had to do. I pressed myself against him and kissed him with everything I had and tried to convey eternity.

Later, we lay in bed. Breathless from another wild coupling.