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Chapter forty-seven

D imitri crushed his lying wife to his chest and launched into the sky with a powerful beat of his wings.

He’d been foolish—letting himself believe she’d accepted her place beside him.

He didn’t deserve her, a princess with a mind as sharp as her beauty.

A female who didn’t cower from his magic and his curse.

Pain infested his heart. She’d never truly be his.

But he would keep her.

Dimitri held her tighter, focusing his pain and rage into the ruthless crescendo of their flight.

She would never escape him.

He rose above the clouds and Astrid clung to him. Her shrill screams were lost to the howl of wind as they ascended. His neva locked her arms around his neck and shoulders. She hooked her ankles behind him, wrapping her toned legs around his waist.

“Dimitri.” Her voice was breathless as her hand ran over the back of his head and down his neck. “We were attacked,” she pleaded, squeezing him closer. “I wasn’t leaving you, my lord.”

Lies. Every word from her honeyed lips was a lie.

And Dimitri didn’t care.

He needed her—wanted her—and he hated her for it.

Silk tore as he ripped the skirt off her dress. He tossed it and the black material twisted and fluttered downward through the open sky. Her panties followed and Dimitri palmed her ass, lifting her higher to unfasten his slacks.

The air was thin at this altitude, leaving him lightheaded and short of breath.

Sunlight beamed down on them, and he glanced at the clouds rolling below.

Dimitri engulfed her in his death magic and Astrid shuddered in his arms. His shadows curled around her, stealing the glimmering stars of her soul.

He took from her, counteracting the altitude.

“I’ll never let you go,” Dimitri growled, thrusting into her. She was wet and slick. The heat of her cunt squeezed his cock tighter as she took more of him.

By the blood, she was perfect.

“Dimitri, I— Dimitri, I can’t breathe,” she panted at his throat.

He wanted to punish her. He should be hurting her, but her pleas unearthed soft, buried emotions and twisted him.

His fingers dug into her hips, holding her while he fucked her harder. This was all that mattered. She belonged to him, body and soul.

And he would rain death over all eight kingdoms before he ever let her go.

“Slower,” Astrid murmured.

“Take it,” Dimitri growled. “Take all of me.”

Her nails raked across his shoulders and Dimitri groaned at the burn. He held her against him, chasing the ecstasy he found in her. Everything about her intoxicated him —the spiced nectar of her soul, every sound he coaxed from her—it all drove him closer to release.

Astrid laid her head on his shoulder and her moans quieted to whispered sighs. He’d kept her too high for too long.

Dimitri palmed the back of her head as he came. Pleasure coursed through him, and he leaned back, wrapping her in his dark wings. Bliss and weightlessness overtook him before his shoulders tipped back and they plummeted.