Page 7 of Definitely Dead (Happily Ever Afterlife #1)

Chapter seven

E ntering their apartment without a word, Sunne kicked his shoes off and removed his jacket to hang it on the hook by the door. Gauntlet thrown, challenge issued, he had anticipated a lot more kissing and groping.

Tyr wanted to talk .

With his mind a tangle of nerves and frustration, he didn’t immediately recognize that something had changed inside the unit. Not until he entered the living room to find a nest of thick blankets and fluffy pillows spread out on the floor in front of the fireplace.

What the hell?

Typically illuminated by a cheery light—like morning sun filtered through sheer curtains—the room was now lit with a soft romantic glow, a background ambience to the crackling fire. The magical flames that danced over the logs didn’t roar but burned gently, emitting a faint pink glow that filled the space.

And right there, in the middle of the stone hearth, was the profanely large bottle of lube he had hidden under the sink in the bathroom.

Sunne fisted his hands at his sides and swallowed back a groan. His apartment was a goddamn menace, and he honestly didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or die of embarrassment.

At the same time, he still vividly remembered what had happened the last time he had disrespected a gift. Plus, it did look pretty cozy.

Settling down on the soft pallet, he crisscrossed his legs, tucking his feet under him, and folded his hands in his lap while he waited for his mate to join him.

Tyr must have seen the giant bottle placed front and center, but he pretended not to notice it as he lowered himself onto the blankets, facing him and mirroring his position.

For a long time, they just stared at each other, neither of them speaking. The longer the silence stretched on, the heavier it felt, building the anticipation until Sunne couldn’t take it anymore.

“Whatever it is, just say it.”

In response, Tyr reached his hand out and wiggled his fingers. “Come over here, lelien. ”

When Sunne took it, his mate pulled him across the blankets and into his lap, repositioning him so that his legs draped over the sides of the shifter’s powerful thighs. Then he settled his hands on Sunne’s hips, his fingers squeezing and kneading, a subtle show of nerves, even when his face remained impassive.

“I want you to listen,” he said, a slight strain in his voice. “This is important.”

Realizing this was a lot deeper than he had been thinking, Sunne nodded.

“You know what I am, right? My heritage?”

He nodded again. “A magical shifter. A berserker.”

Maybe even the origin of the Norse legends. Well, not Tyr specifically, but others like him.

“A hybrid,” Tyr added. “For shifters, claiming a mate is a blood bond, a joining of energies, of hearts. But for a mage, it’s deeper, more complicated. For a mage, the union is a soul bond, a merging of lifeforces. If I claim you, we would be bound in every way.”

Okay, that wasn’t so bad. He had been concerned Tyr had changed his mind, but it just sounded like he wanted Sunne to understand the mechanics.

And what he described sounded kind of poetic. Two hearts beating as one. Two halves of one soul. His mate looked too serious for it to be that easy, though, which meant he was probably missing something.

“Our lives would be so intertwined that if the connection was severed, if one of us died—”

“The other would too,” Sunne finished, panic surfacing as understanding dawned. “But I’m already dead.”

Tyr’s fingers tightened reflexively around his hips. “Yes.”

“What does that mean? What would happen to you if you claimed me? Would you die?” He started shaking his head before he’d even finished speaking. “No. No way.”

“Calm down, lelien .” Arching his neck, Tyr brushed their lips together. “That’s not what I meant.”

Sunne accepted another kiss with a quiet sigh. “Then what are you trying to say?”

“I don’t know anyone else in the Underworld who has claimed a soul as a mate. I don’t even know if it will work.”

“You mean, we might have missed our chance?”

“I don’t think so.” His mate’s expression turned pensive, his brow creased, and his eyes narrowed. “But I don’t know either. I just don’t want you to be disappointed if we don’t share the same kind of bond as others.”

Sunne’s breath caught, lodged behind the lump in his throat, and his heart ached with love and gratitude for the amazing gift fate had given him.

“I don’t care about anyone else,” he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. “You are mine, and I don’t need some magical soul bond to prove it.” Then he dipped his head, bringing their lips together in a kiss filled with all the emotions he felt but couldn’t put into words. “I just need you.”

His mate made a sound in the back of his throat, somewhere between a growl and groan, and curled his hand around the back of Sunne’s neck. “Be sure because there’s no going back.”

“I’m sure,” he answered with calm certainty. This was what he wanted, more than anything. “Claim me, Tyr. Make me yours.”

A heartbeat of silence passed. Two. Then a darkly possessive growl echoed through the room as Tyr dragged him into a kiss that both soothed and ignited.

There was no gentleness, no tender exploration. His mate attacked his mouth, waging battle as he plundered the depths. He didn’t coax or demand. He didn’t need to.

Instead, Tyr touched him like he owned him, like he had every right to completely unravel him. Yet, beneath the dominance, woven through the confidence, there was reverence, every stroke of his tongue, every greedy caress, filled with a kind of quiet worship.

Hands calloused from the hilt of a sword, from wars fought in secret, slipped beneath the hem of Sunne’s shirt, raking across his skin and spiking his pulse. He trembled, overwhelmed by sensation and pleasure, but still, he craved more.

Tingles spread through his body when Tyr tore his mouth away to trail his lips up the curve of his neck. His teeth scraped over the sensitive hollow behind his ear, then nipped at his lobe, eliciting a strangled moan.

“Want you,” Tyr rasped.

“Then have me,” he answered with a deep shudder.

His big hands slid up Sunne’s flanks, his fingers digging into the muscles. “I’m going to make you fly, lelien . And I won’t stop until you know exactly who you belong to.”

The words wrapped around him like a caress, the mix of softness and carnality making his head spin and his cock throb. His hips jerked when his mate dragged his thumbnail over his sensitive nipple, the slight sting only pushing him higher.

Then Tyr’s mouth was on his again, drinking down his needy moans as he continued the assault against the pebbled nub. He pinched and tugged, rolling it between his fingers, and every bite of delicious pain sent a jolt straight to Sunne’s groin.

He bucked in his mate’s arms, grinding against him as he chased something just beyond reach. Heat surged, the embers of desire flaring into a firestorm of instinct and primal hunger. Every touch scorched and every kiss seared as he burned for the big Guardian.

A warm breeze danced across his skin when Tyr stripped his shirt off, discarding it without ceremony. His hand vanished from Sunne’s swollen nipple, replaced by a pair of warm lips, and electricity crackled through his veins when his mate sucked at the erect tip.

Sunne’s head fell back on his shoulders, and he tangled his fingers in his mate’s hair as he arched into his mouth. Tyr’s thick beard rubbed against his chest, sending tingles racing across his torso and pulling a sharp gasp from his panting lips.

“Tyr, hurry.” He already teetered on the pinnacle, right there at the edge of no return. “I need you. I need to feel you.”

With another growl, Tyr leaned forward, lying him on his back in the middle of the blankets. His eyes shined with a feral light, the irises aglow with the effort of his restraint. Still, his hands were steady and confident as he stripped Sunne’s jeans off and divested his own clothing.

Sweet hell, he was stunning. And big.

Bronzed skin stretched across chiseled muscles that swelled and contracted, like hard steel wrapped in velvet. His chest expanded with each harsh breath, and his ribbed abs rippled as he stretched over Sunne, blanketing him with his massive frame.

Moaning as they finally met skin to skin, Sunne spread his legs, wrapping them around his mate’s waist as he welcomed him into the cradle of his hips.

Tyr kissed him again, the mating of their lips filled with a frantic urgency as they groped at each other, hands grabbing and pulling with insistence. The tension between them hummed with tautness, balancing on a knife’s edge, hovering in that place of anticipation right before the snap.

He felt Tyr’s weight shift above him as he leaned toward the fireplace, heard the snick of the bottle cap, the sound unusually loud in the quiet. A shiver swept over him when his mate reached between them, circling Sunne’s entrance with the cool gel, and a ragged groan strained his throat when a thick finger pushed inside.

His muscles clenched around the invasion, in need rather than protest, and he rocked his hips, pulling the digit deeper. The pressure increased when Tyr added a second finger, the stretch making his cock jerk to the frenzied rhythm of his pulse.

When Tyr pulled away, he whimpered from the loss, from the emptiness, and he raised his hips, trying to follow him. Then he was lifted from the floor, pulled back across his mate’s thighs as Tyr sat back on his heels.

Sunne didn’t hesitate. He didn’t wait for permission. Fisting the shifter’s thick length, he positioned it at his hole and sank over him. The burn was intense, the pressure nearly unbearable, but he kept going, the bite of pain only spurring him on, until he was fully seated.

Planting his feet on the floor, he wrapped his arms around his mate’s neck and began to move, rising and falling, taking him deeper each time. Still, it wasn’t enough.

“Fuck me,” he demanded. “Make me feel it.”

The growl he received in answer was predatory, dangerous, and the sweetest sound he had ever heard. A powerful arm locked around his waist, caging him, and Tyr tumbled him back to the floor. His hips flexed, his control snapped, and he slammed his hips forward, driving into Sunne without restraint.

He set a brutal tempo, thrusting hard and fast, his fingers digging into Sunne’s thighs as he jerked him onto his cock with every deep plunge. Sunne cried out, his voice ringing through the room, desperate and half-crazed from the pleasure.

Tyr’s growls joined his moans, creating an erotic symphony as they hurdled toward the abyss in a wild storm of panted breaths and tangled limbs.

“You are mine,” Tyr snarled at him. “Only mine.” He punctuated every word with another hard thrust. “Say it.”

“Yours,” Sunne choked, his head whipping back and forth, his balls aching for release. “Only yours.”

With a roar that shook the walls, Tyr fell over him, his sharp fangs piercing the skin at the apex where his neck met his shoulders.

Sunne screamed, his throat tight and raw, as he shattered, broken into thousands of glittering pieces. His eyes rolled back and his vision dimmed as his orgasm slammed into him with the force of a tsunami, dragging him beneath a violent wave of endless pleasure.

His balls contracted, squeezing against his body, and his cock pulsed with ropes of hot, sticky semen that painted his chest and abs.

Through the haze, he felt his mate still, heard his answering growl as he emptied himself into Sunne’s contracting channel. In the stillness that followed, Tyr claimed his mouth again, pushing his tongue between his parted lips.

The kiss was brief, tender, and tinged with the taste of copper—with his mate’s blood. And by the time it ended, Sunne was floating, drifting somewhere beyond himself, surrounded by a bright light that enveloped him with indescribable warmth.

Easing out of him, Tyr collapsed on the floor beside him and dragged him into his arms, cradling him against his broad chest as he peppered kisses over his face and head.

“You are mine now, and I’m never letting you go.”

Burying his face against the side of the Guardian’s neck, he smiled as Tyr’s voice whispered into his mind, proof of their unbreakable bond, now cemented for eternity.

“Mine,” he sent back. “All mine.”