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‘And what’s that?’

‘To provide an heir.’

Wilder flinched.

‘That’s not something I want,’ she told him. ‘Not ever.’ Again, she waited for him to tell her that she’d change her mind, that all women did when they got older. She’d heard the same patronising notion plenty of times in the fortress. But no such words slipped from his mouth. ‘Does that make me —’

‘It makes you, you. And you are perfect,’ he said.

She raised a sceptical brow, all their arguments, all their tense moments flashing before her. ‘Since when?’

‘Since always,’ he said, smiling softly. ‘I was just too stubborn to see it.’

Tears burned Thea’s eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. ‘I like you like this…’

Wilder wiggled a brow. ‘Wet and naked?’

Thea laughed. ‘Relaxed. Yourself… You’re perfect, too.’

A cloud passed over Wilder’s expression, so quickly Thea thought she’d imagined it.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

He studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. ‘I never thought I would have this.’ He gestured between them.

Thea waited, watching as his brow furrowed and he struggled to find the words.

His throat bobbed. ‘And now I have it… I’m terrified.’

‘Of what?’

‘Of losing it. Of losing you.’

Thea’s heart fractured. She knew he had lost others he’d cared about, and she knew that although her fate stone wasn’t currently around her neck, it would always be between them.

Water sluiced down her as she moved, settling in his lap, straddling him.

Even now, his desire pressed against her and she dipped her head to his, kissing him.

‘You won’t lose me, not until fate itself comes to claim me.’ She shifted her hips, angling herself at the tip of his cock. ‘I promise you that, Warsword.’

He claimed her mouth brutally, his hands tangling in her wet hair, pulling her down onto him. Wilder sheathed himself inside her and Thea cried out.

His teeth scraped along her neck as he began to move beneath her, filling her with everything he had.

‘Don’t make vows you can’t keep, Princess.’

But every thought had emptied from Thea’s head as the intoxicating force of him took hold, and she kissed him again, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to pretend she hadn’t heard those words.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

THEA

Thea stood at the bow ofThe Furies’ Willand looked out onto the white caps of the water, lapping in the wind. The early morning air was crisp against her skin, a shock after the delicious warmth of being in Wilder’s arms all night, but good. She needed something to bring her out of the haze of him; she needed a clear head.

The captain had told her that if the conditions remained favourable, they might see Tver on the horizon before sundown. Which seemed far too soon. Thea wasn’t ready to leave the rocking comfort of the sea, or face the darkness that awaited them beyond it.

‘There you are,’ Wren’s voice sounded behind her.