Page 129 of A Warrior's Heart

And even though the devastation from it was immense, we had survived to see another day.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Malik

Three days passed since the battle.

With nowhere else to go, the people of Avalontis had stayed in the kingdom. Lorcan opened the palace to all those who’d lost their homes, and the injured had been taken to the infirmary. Eva, Troy, and the other physicians tended to the soldiers’ wounds. Alek tried to help, but Lorcan told him to rest, as he’d had injuries of his own.

Troy stirred beside me in bed.

I had been awake for nearly an hour but wanted to let him sleep for as long as possible. He had been working day and night tending to the wounded. When he’d joined me in bed late the night before, I had held him while he’d cried. Several of the soldiers had succumbed to their injuries, and Troy had taken the loss hard.

I brushed my fingers through his hair before tracing the delicate curve of his jaw and lips. I was afraid he’d disappear, that I’d wake one morning and discover his return had only been a dream.

“Good morning,” he said, opening his eyes and cracking a sleepy smile. We had been sleeping in his chamber in the palace. Even though it had been taken over by the sea, we’d slept in each other’s arms and found comfort anyway.

“Morning.” I grazed the back of my knuckles across his cheek. “I have business to attend to with Prince Lorcan and the council. But I wanted to stay until you woke.”

“I’m sorry.” Troy’s bottom lip trembled.

“What for?”

“For getting captured,” he said, his voice soft. “For not being strong enough to fight Ezra’s influence. He made me think I hated you.”

Three days and he was finally talking about what happened.

“There is no need to apologize.” I tugged him close. His tail fin wrapped around mine as he shoved his face against my neck. “Your bravery saved us all that day. It’s because of you that we’re here right now, in each other’s arms. As for Ezra… his magic was strong. But in the end, you overcame its hold on you.”

“Because of you.” I felt him smile against my skin. “I had an arrow aimed at your head and you kissed me.”

“I knew you wouldn’t kill me.”

“How?”

“Because I know you, Troy. I know your heart. Our love is greater than any magic.”

“I shot at you though,” he said in a raspy, emotion-thick tone.

“The arrow only grazed the tip of my nose. You never miss your target. If you truly wanted me dead, you would’ve killed me then.”

Troy pulled my face to his and kissed me.

Some feelings couldn’t be expressed with words, only actions. In the days since the battle, Troy and I had cuddled while we slept and kissed on occasion. As he kissed me that morning, I sensed his desire for more. He skimmed his hand down my side and to the front of my fin, below my waist.

I softly groaned when his fingers found my cock.

“Need you,” he murmured against my lips.

I needed him too. Needed to be as close as our bodies would allow.

With my lips moving on his, I moved my hand to the back of his tail fin and slipped a finger inside him. He sighed and stroked me from root to tip, grazing his teeth along my collar bone. One finger inside him turned to two, and I reveled in his moans. When he was stretched enough, I gently spun him around and kissed his nape. He bumped against my bobbing erection. Impatient.

“Tell me what you want,” I whispered.

“You,” he said. “All of you.”

And then I pushed into him.