Page 21

I shudder, the chilly evening air raising goosebumps on my skin. There’s truth in his words—the courtyard is open to any passerby. Anyone could see, or worse, report us to his mother. A thread of panic knits through the haze of desire.

“Come on,” he says, voice low. “Your suite is nearby. We can... talk there.”

The hesitation in his tone is palpable, as if he’s not sure “talk” is the right word.

I nod mutely, too overwhelmed to argue. He releases me, bending quickly to retrieve our practice swords.

Then he offers me one, handling it like a mere prop.

Hand in hand, we slip through a side gate into the corridor.

The fortress interior is dim, lit by sporadic torches. My mind buzzes with each step. He holds my wrist lightly, a protective yet urgent contact. I watch the way his wings fold tight to his back, as if he’s shielding me from any unexpected onlooker.

We reach my suite’s door, and I fumble with the key. My nerves tangle. The moment we’re inside, I set aside the sword and whirl to face him. The hush in the room engulfs us, the only light coming from a single lamp I’d left burning.

He stands by the door, gaze locked on me, chest still rising and falling from the spar. My heart clenches at the sight—the lethal grace of his body, the intensity in his eyes. I cross the distance between us in two strides.

We collide again, mouths seeking each other in a kiss that’s somehow more frantic than before. His hands grip my waist, lifting me so my feet leave the floor for a second. A strangled sound escapes me—half protest, half desperation—because I still can’t believe we’ve let this happen.

His fangs graze my lip once more, and I realize I’m not afraid. Gods, I should be. He could tear me open, but instead, he’s cradling me as though I’m precious. I tangle my hands in his hair, pressing him closer.

We stumble across the room, leaving a trail of scattered items—a lamp nearly topples as we brush past the small table. When my back meets the wall, I gasp, and he braces a hand beside my head, pinning me in place. Our eyes meet, a silent question passing between us.

“Are you sure?” he breathes, voice ragged.

In answer, I pull him in for another fierce kiss. My body thrums with a need I’ve never felt before—a desire not born of fear or forced subservience, but of a genuine, overwhelming connection. He groans against my mouth, and the sound ignites a trembling ache in my core.

Neither of us is gentle. Our movements are clumsy in places, fueled by pent-up hunger.

At some point, I manage to shift enough that we tumble onto the edge of my bed.

The closeness is too much and not enough all at once.

My fingers hook into the collar of his coat, sliding it down his arms, revealing the ghostly white skin beneath.

He answers by tugging at the ties of my tunic, baring my shoulders. A rush of cool air on my flushed skin makes me shiver, but his warmth follows, his lips trailing down my neck. Pleasure sparks, making my head spin.

My past experiences were nothing like this.

Before, my body was a commodity, used by the dark elves to amuse themselves.

Now, each caress is electric, desired. There’s no fear or compulsion, only this maddening urge to explore every contour of Vaelorian’s body and lose myself in the intensity of him.

Clothes fall away in pieces, the breathy gasps filling the air. My nerves hum with the knowledge that I’m lying here, half-naked, with a powerful Vrakken who could break me—and yet, for once, I feel alive, in control, even as I surrender to the sensation.

He pauses, fingertips featherlight against my waist. His black eyes meet mine, searching. I sense the question again: Are you certain?

I nod. “Yes,” I whisper, voice hoarse.

A guttural sound tears from Vaelorian’s throat as he slams me back against the door, his wings flaring wide to cage me in.

The wood bites into my bare shoulders, but I don’t care—not when his hands are already wrenching my trousers down my hips, not when his cock is already hard and pressing against my thigh, hot as a brand.

“Fuck, Valeria,” he snarls, his voice rough with need.

His fingers dig into my waist, turning me roughly, pressing my chest to the door.

I gasp as his body molds against me, his leathers only half-undone, the cool metal of his buckles scraping my skin.

His breath is ragged against my ear. “Last chance to run.”

I twist in his grip, meeting those black, hungry eyes. “Do I look like I want to run?”

A growl rumbles through him, and then his hand is between my thighs, fingers sliding through my slick, teasing my pussy with rough, impatient strokes. I moan, arching back against him. “Gods, yes?—!”

“You’re dripping for me,” he murmurs, dragging his fangs along my shoulder.

A shiver of fear—he could bite, he could take everything—melds into molten heat when his cock replaces his fingers, the thick head nudging against my entrance.

“Tell me you want it, Valeria. How much do you want me, human? Do you know that I can kill you?”

I gasp, of course I know, but I’m so fargone, all I can think about is his cock inside me.

“Now, Vaelorian! I want you so deep in me, make me come with your monstrous dick,” I gasp, staring at his cock.

Huge is an understatement. Mostly, it looks human if it’s not as pale as the rest of him.

His cock’s also a bit pointy at the tip, and curves at the end as if like a hook.

My leg clenches as I cream even more. The girth is just right but the length of it… Gods, his cock’s beautiful.

“Vaelorian—”

He doesn’t make me beg.

With one brutal thrust, he sheathes himself inside me, stretching me wide, stealing my breath.

A cry tears from my lips, echoed by his groan against my neck.

For a heartbeat, we’re both still—then he pulls back and slams into me again, setting a punishing rhythm that has me clawing at the door for balance.

“Valeria! Do you like it? My cock’s perfect, isn’t it? Take me all in, okay?”

I moan, my legs trembling, only the door and his arms are holding me up as he raises one of my legs. “Are you not all in?”

“No, Valeria, but I’m almost there,” he groans and slams inside me. A scream rips from my throat as he hits so deep inside me, there’s no telling where he started and ended.

“Fuck—!” I gasp, the pleasure so sharp it borders on pain. His hips snap against mine, each thrust driving me harder into the wood, his cock hitting that sweet, deep spot that makes my vision blur. “Right there—don’t stop?—!”

The pain is adding to the pleasure, and my eyes are swimming back and forth. I might lose consciousness due to ecstasy if I don’t hold onto my sanity.

His hand fists in my hair, yanking my head back. “Look at you,” he rasps, his voice dark with possession. “Taking me like you were made for it.” His free hand grips my hip, fingers bruising, holding me open as he fucks me with relentless, hungry strokes.

I’m unraveling, my pussy clenching around him, every nerve alight. His fangs skim my throat again, and my pulse leaps—not just in fear, but in desperate, reckless want. “Do it,” I pant, tilting my head to bare my neck. “Bite me.”

I’m so lost, I even begged him to bite me. Damn, I’m officially crazy but it’s what an out of this world pleasure does.

He stills, his breath ragged. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I want it.” I reach back, grasping his thigh, urging him deeper. “I want you—all of you?—”

A snarl, and his hips jerk forward, burying his cock to the hilt. His mouth crashes onto my throat, fangs pricking—but he doesn’t bite. Not yet. Instead, his hand slides between my legs, fingers circling my clit in rough, perfect strokes.

“Come for me,” he orders, his voice a dark promise. “Now.”

The command—and the relentless thrust of his cock—shatters me. Pleasure erupts, white-hot and consuming, my body clamping around him as I sob his name. He follows with a groan, his wings shuddering as he spills inside me, his hips stuttering, his fangs pressing just shy of breaking skin.

For a moment, all I hear is our ragged breathing, the creak of the door under our weight. Then his lips brush my shoulder—gentle, almost reverent—before he murmurs, “Next time, I won’t hold back.”

A thrill races down my spine. Next time.

Then it’s over, and we collapse together on the animal skin rug on the floor, bodies slick with sweat, hearts hammering in the silence.

My chest heaves, and I realize tears have sprung to my eyes—tears I didn’t know I was capable of shedding.

It’s not sadness, exactly. More a crushing sense of this is real, this is happening.

Vaelorian breathes heavily against my hair, arms still caging me. For a time, we simply lie there, letting the moment settle like dust after a storm. My mind whirls with disbelief—and a creeping worry. What have we done?

Eventually, he shifts, pressing a soft kiss to my temple before rolling onto his back. The air in the room feels cool against my overheated skin. I turn onto my side, watching him. His eyes remain closed, but tension creases his brow.

“Vaelorian?” I say, voice barely above a whisper.

He opens his eyes slowly. The swirl of regret, need, and something deeper in his gaze makes my heart clench. He lifts a hand to brush my cheek, and I lean into the touch, ignoring the voice in my head that warns this intimacy will complicate everything.

“This was... reckless,” he murmurs. “I should have guarded my composure better.”

A sting of hurt pricks my chest, but I swallow it. “I’m not sorry,” I admit. “Not about this.”

His eyes close again, and his expression twists. “Nor am I. That’s the problem.”

I bite my lip, shifting closer so our bodies remain pressed together. My head rests on his shoulder, my leg draped over his. We lie in silence for a beat, as if neither of us knows what to do with this new territory we’ve stumbled into.

Eventually, I gather enough courage to speak. “This changes things, doesn’t it?”

He exhales, a ragged sound. “It might. Our arrangement—my mother’s scrutiny, your mission. We can’t afford to let desire cloud our judgment.”

He’s right, of course. A swirl of dread and euphoria tangles in my belly. We can’t let this overshadow our objective. But right now, I don’t want to think about politics or infiltration. I just want to cling to this fleeting moment, where I feel something other than fear or anger.

I prop myself up on one elbow, brushing my fingertips across his jaw. “Then let’s not think about the future. Just... tonight.”

A corner of his mouth lifts in a bitter-sweet smile. He turns his head to press a gentle kiss to my knuckles. “For tonight.”

We lapse into another hush. Outside the window, night deepens, the moon rising over the fortress walls. I sense the weight of unspoken truths between us, but for once, neither of us tries to fill the silence with empty words.

Eventually, he shifts, guiding me down so that my head nestles against his chest. He wraps an arm around me, wings rustling as though trying to shield us from the world. My body relaxes, lulled by the steady cadence of his heartbeat beneath my ear.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. Perhaps regrets, or a harsher distance that neither of us can bridge. But as the final embers of adrenaline fade, I let my eyes drift shut, exhaustion overtaking me.

In that small slice of time, I allow myself to believe we might share something other than our dangerous alliance. Because in Vaelorian’s arms, with his breath stirring my hair, I feel safe in a way I never have.

It’s a fragile illusion, but for this moment, I embrace it.