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“Yours!”

Rye grunted in approval, thrusting increasingly faster and deeper. She couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t do anything butfeelmore and more, and more, till they both reached a sharp precipice and fell.

Her long scream drowned his deep groan and then she was limp against him, spent.

She couldn’t even describe what they’d just done. Sex didn’t begin to cover it. She’d had sex before; it was nothing like this.

His chest rose and fell fast with hers.

“I claim you right back,” she whispered.

Her mate. Her partner.

Her king.

Rydekar gathered her in his arms and carried her to her bed, drenched and soiled. He peeled her dress off her, before kissing every inch of her body, and making love to her again, and again, and again.

Epilogue

“We’re never having sex again.”

Rydekar chuckled. It wasn’t the first time Rissa had said so. In fact, it was the seventh time in the years since they’d found each other. She might even have believed it at the time.

He kissed the top of her head.

“I mean it this time, we’re done. I’m not having another child.”

He ignored her, bouncing his newborn daughter in his arms.

Rissa glared at him. “Didn’t anyone tell you fae aren’t supposed to reproduce that much?"

“Mommy’s tired, Dawn, darling. Ignore her. We know you want a little brother to play with.”

“In your dreams!” she snarled.

He laughed, carrying the child to her bed before returning to his mate’s side.

They’d ruled in the Old Keep together for five centuries so far, their high court overseeing both Tenebris and Denarhelm. There had been times of war, times of peace, betrayal, near-misses with death, and also joy and merriments. With this seventh child, their line was secured several times over. The one chink in their world was the shadow of the sea.

His father, Havryll, Nyla.

The girl was still alive—their spies had confirmed it—and so long as that queen ruled her courts, their world wasn’t safe. Rydekar doubted that she’d attack them head-on, not until she was certain she could win. She was unreachable to them in the depths of the ocean, but until the threat she represented was dealt with, he had to remain vigilant.

Rydekar knew their eldest daughter was eager to take the unseelie crown, but how could he hand it to her, knowing she’d inherit a war that had started before she drew breath?

Rissa was hoping their third son might take the seelie crown, though like her, he was reluctant to assume the responsibility.

A new child meant that they’d stay another few decades in this world, but both of them were getting restless, eager to go wandering the other greater universe, like their ancestors had done before them.

“She’s asleep.”

“You’re a child whisperer,” Rissa pouted, quite jealous of his ability to calm their children.

He ought to confess he used his mental ability to compel them into sleep, someday. Perhaps not for the next few years, lest she demand he stop doing it.

“Perhaps I can become a nanny, if the kingly business gets tedious.”

She chuckled as he laid down next to her.

“We did well with this one. She’s pretty like her mother.”

“And strong like her father,” Rissa cut in.

Rydekar yawned. Rissa went into labor late in the night, and it was already dusk. She caressed his forehead, as exhausted as him. “Sleep, my mate.”

“Right after you, my nightmare.”

The End