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Message received. Permission granted.

She was his now—to take, to savor, to ruin.

And he would. Shards help him, he would ruin her for every other man.

She moaned into him, and this time, there was no reason to hold back—except the obvious.

“Not here,” he said roughly. Anyone could walk in. And as far gone as he was, he wasn’t going to take Taly’s first time on a rooftop like some Shards-damned back-alley fumble.

He stood with her in his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. She held onto his shoulders, lips teasing along his throat, each press and scrape of her teeth a silent demand: hurry. Move now.

Back down the stairs. Through her bedroom window. Straight to the bed.

He dropped her onto the mattress and tugged off her boots, tossing them somewhere behind him. His coat hit the floor next. Then his shirt. Taly was already shoving off her pants, tangled in a mess of fabric and bare skin. He helped, dragging them the rest of the way off.

Only in her sweater now, she went to her knees and attacked his belt. But he had other priorities.

Gripping the hem, he ripped the sweater over her head, grabbed her around the waist, and pushed her back down.

No red lace this time. Just the heavy curve of her breasts spilling over tight stays, flushed and far too tempting. He hadn’t given them the attention they deserved last time. He intended to correct that.

Soft. Full. Fucking perfect. Tits like that should’ve been illegal. Or under armed guard. Or his. Definitely his.

He dropped his head and buried his face in them, groaning, “By the power vested in me by the sovereign nation of Ghislain, these lands are hereby annexed for royal use.” He breathed her in, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the warm skin there.

“They will be maintained, worshipped, and protected accordingly. All foreign access is now considered an act of treason.”

Beneath him, Taly sighed. Deeply. “It’s honestly impressive—how you can be this good with your mouth and still say the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”

He nipped her through the fabric, and her words cut off in a sharp breath.

One-handed, he worked on the buttons to his trousers. Her legs parted beneath him, welcoming him in.

Time slowed down.

It wasn’t her magic. This was all him. He simply stopped pushing against the deluge of his senses, and his mind adjusted to the onslaught, stretching each second wide.

He wanted to remember everything—to see everything, feel everything .

He wanted to burn this moment into memory so it never left.

The throbbing in his cock turned painful. She was so warm. Her scent filled his head, making it impossible to think past the pounding of his own heartbeat.

Even her music, blaring in the background—the rhythm surrounded him, seeping into his bones, and for a moment, he thought he could feel it the way Taly had always seemed to feel it, like euphoria in his blood.

Drowning in sensation, he felt the tug too late. She ripped open the front of his trousers, reaching in.

Desire. Craving. Need.

It was all amplified.

It came with no warning, no time to brace himself.

It pulsed in his blood and shot up his cock as she pumped him. Once, twice. Her palm was a wicked mix of heat and friction.

Time stretched as if in a dream, and he got his wish.

He experienced all of it.

He saw in excruciating detail every minute tick of dawning surprise that swept across her beautiful face as the sensation of finally having her hands on him, around him, worshiping him, detonated the last of his restraint in a sudden, blinding surge.

Time snapped back. The climax ripped through him. Taly didn’t let go, thank the Shards, and stroked him through to the end.

On and on, the humiliation was endless, splattering across her sex, her thighs, her stomach. It was everything he’d dreamed, made real in all the wrong ways.

Panting into her neck, Skye held himself over her. “Don’t worry. I can do better,” was all he could think to say.

And he would. Right now.

Then—because the Universe hated him—a knock sounded at the door.

“This is starting to feel pointed,” he muttered, pumping his shaft between them.

“Hurry.” Taly’s voice had taken on a needy, breathy little edge that had him pumping faster.

Then the door opened.

Taly jerked back so fast she nearly headbutted him. “Wait, are they— Skye, they’re coming in. Put on your clothes!”

He was going to commit murder.

Taly scrambled for her pants. It was a travesty. He stared, committing every last inch of bare skin to memory until she yanked her sweater down.

She threw his shirt at him, and he shoved it on with a growl. The scent from the hallway was familiar—rose petals and chamomile.

Of course.

“Hi Aimee,” Skye drawled, combing a hand through his hair. He didn’t bother hiding his annoyance as the woman in question peeked her head through the door.

“Sorry,” she said with false sweetness. “Am I interrupting something?”

She knew damn well that she was.

Taly clicked off the music. “Typically,” Skye said into the silence, “when you knock and nobody answers, that’s a sign that whoever’s inside wants to be left alone.”

Aimee smoothed a hand over her skirt. “If that’s how you feel, learn how to lock doors.”

“You must be here to finish losing,” Taly said with a smirk. Aimee’s hands curled into fists.

It was almost comforting how some things never changed—Taly glaring, Aimee glaring harder, and Skye stuck in the middle like a bone caught between two equally determined dogs.

“What happened here exactly?” He looked from one to the other. “More importantly, am I in danger?”

“Hard to say,” Taly replied, gaze sharp. “What do you think, Aimee?”

Aimee’s lips thinned. Then she drew herself up, chin high and eyes cool. “I just came here to tell you both that my uncle has called a family meeting. It’s mandatory. And happening right now.”

She turned to go. No parting shot. No sulking. No last-ditch attempt to flirt her way between them.

That was… new.

Then, just as she reached door: “Also, Talya, your trousers seem to have… markings. You might want to change before someone notices the enthusiasm.”

Ah. There it was.

Taly looked down. Her brow furrowed. “What the…”

She turned slightly—tugged at the fabric of her trousers, brushed at one side, then the other.

“Oh.”

A pause.

“… oh .”

There were several spots—smudged, damp, irregular. They trailed down her hip, clung near the waistband, pooled faintly at the seam of her thigh.

“Note to self: boys leave… residue. Good to know.”

With a shrug, she tugged at the waistband, already half out of them by the time she glanced over her shoulder.

Skye was still perched at the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands, watching her with open appreciation. The outline straining against his trousers made it very clear just how much he was enjoying the view.

Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse you,” she said, retreating into the closet.

Skye only laughed, low and lazy. “Right. Now you’re shy.”

When it came to sex, Taly was new to pretty much everything.

And she’d been nervous—first time and all that.

Not that it had been necessary. Apparently, she was a natural.

Skye was supposed to be some kind of lothario on the mainland, and she’d made him pop his cork without even trying. That had to be an achievement.

She was still giddy from the discovery of her newfound, apparently Shards-given sexual prowess as they hurried down the stairs to Ivain’s office. Inside it, a conversation was already underway.

“We’re not ready for this,” Ivain said as they slipped into the room. “No, Sarina. We’re not going.”

“We don’t have a choice.” Sarina sat across from Ivain at his desk. “The invitations have already been sent out. It will raise too many questions if we decline.”

“We’ll say that Taly’s unwell. Any human would need rest after such a harrowing ordeal.”

“And how long can we play that card? Hmm? This is going to happen one way or the other. I say we get it over with.”

Taly slid into the chair beside Sarina. Skye stood off to the side. Ivain explained to them, “We received an invitation. Kalahad Brenin is hosting a dinner in Taly’s honor.”

Taly’s brows flicked up. “Why?” she asked. Not that she wasn’t something to celebrate, but nobility didn’t usually throw parties for humans.

Everyone in the room shared a look. “Who’s going to tell her?” Skye asked.

“Tell me what?” But nobody volunteered. “Oh Shards, I’m going to hate this aren’t I?”

Ivain sighed. “Fine. I’ll do it. Bunch of cowards…

” He sat up straighter, as if bracing himself.

“Taly, the call you made from Vale saved a lot of lives. And, thanks to the audio getting leaked, it got a lot of attention. Then someone made the link that it was you manning the flashcannon in Ebondrift, and, well… you’ve become somewhat of a local hero. ”

“To say the least,” Skye murmured.

“It’s the reason Kalahad loaned us his mages,” Ivain said. “I assume this dinner is his way of showing you off. Like a prize.”

Taly blinked. “Are you… You’re being serious right now.”

“They call you the Savior of Ebondrift,” Skye said.

She laughed. Because that’s what you did when people started saying things that were crazy.

Her. A hero? It was absurd.

“The dinner is set for Solnar’s eve,” Sarina said, drawing the conversation back to the topic and leaving Taly to mull over her newfound celebrity in silence.

“Every notable figure in town is on the guest list, and sources tell me most have already confirmed. If we back out now, we deprive him of his guest of honor.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t want to do that,” Ivain grumbled.

“Excuse me if I’m not jumping to put our daughter in the crosshairs just so Brenin can make a show of groveling.

That’s what this is all about. He’s trying to get ahead of the fallout once it goes public that his mages attempted an assassination on the heir of Ghislain. ”