Page 88

Later—after all the bodies had been burned, as the Oracle had instructed, and the stench of scorched flesh still clung stubbornly to the air—Seren and Hagan lay side by side in the narrow bed, facing each other.

They had eaten whatever had been placed in front of them, not once letting go of each other's hands.

Earlier, they had walked to the river to wash away the grime of battle.

He had let her go just long enough for her to take a quick bath, then reached for her again like a man who feared he'd lose her in the current.

She'd fussed over the wounds that marred his body—his swollen eye, his split lip, the bruises blooming across his ribs—all healing fast but not fast enough for her peace of mind.

They dressed quickly, a low hum of awareness crackling between them.

But it mellowed when Seren slipped on a thin shift and crawled under the covers.

Hagan had no such restraint. He joined her naked, his arousal pressing insistently against her belly, her tight brown nipples brushing against his chest.

They said nothing of it. Just lay in the hush.

In the dark, he whispered, "The bond... it kept me going.

If you'd gone, I would have fought until I couldn't stand.

Then I would've found a way into Starnheim to bring you back.

And once I'd sent you to the ancestors..

." He exhaled, voice fraying. "I'd have followed. You are not leaving me behind again. "

Her throat tightened. She thought about telling him she'd expected to die. That part of her had wanted to be taken. But that truth could wait for another day.

Instead, she pressed her face into the warm plane of his chest and slowly licked the crease between his pectorals. Her hand slid down, cupping him, fingers closing gently around his length to explore the velvet heat of him.

He jerked, catching her wrist. "Don't," he said, voice ragged. "I don't think I can..."

"I want to," she murmured. "When I was... there, Lilja said something. She said we'd never had sex. And I realized—I don't want it with anyone else. Just you."

His eyes searched hers in the dark. "I've never wanted it with anyone else either."

"Not even...?"

He gave an almost-smile. "An unequivocal no."

He exhaled a trembling sigh, his forehead brushing hers. "Don't tease me unless you mean it."

"I mean it," she said, looking into his eyes. "I'm not ready to take blood. Not yet. But this... this is mine to give."

Her hand resumed its gentle exploration, and his fingers—shaking just slightly—slipped between the curls at the apex of her thighs.

He grazed her with reverence, tracing slow circles around her clit while watching her face, learning her breath, her rhythm, and the way she caught her lip between her teeth.

Then, softly, he pressed against her opening and eased one thick finger inside her.

"You're so tight," he whispered, awe in his voice.

He eased another finger inside her, slow and careful.

The stretch made her breath catch, a sharp sting at first—but it faded, melting into something deeper, something electric that pulsed low in her abdomen.

It was nothing like the times she had touched herself.

This was deeper, rawer, more alive. Hagan bent down and drew one velvet nipple into his mouth, sucking hard until she gasped, then released it with a wet pop.

"I can't wait," he muttered, sounding almost apologetic as if the urgency was something he could wrestle back into control.

"Don't," she whispered.

"I don't think I'll last. “muttered Hagan through gritted teeth.

"It's okay, “said Seren, suddenly shy.

He moved over her, shifting so that his thigh parted hers. She opened willingly beneath him. His hand guided the head of his cock to her entrance, pressing it slowly against her softness. Her breath hitched as he locked it there—and then he pushed forward .

"Ow," she gasped, eyebrows knitting. "Ouch... ouch—Hagan... Stop...No... go"

"You're so tight," he breathed, a sheen of sweat already glistening across his skin, his voice frayed and trembling. "Can I...?"

"Just do it," she said through gritted teeth, face twisted in pain, though her fingers still clung to his back.

He pushed halfway in—and then stilled. A sharp cry escaped his lips as his body tensed, and before he could do anything else, he came. With a strangled groan, he collapsed on her and buried his face in her chest, mortified.

A few seconds passed. Then he lifted his head, eyes wide, vulnerable. "Well," he muttered, "that was... embarrassing."

Seren blinked at him, then slowly smiled, a crooked, confused expression somewhere between disbelief and affection. "It's not like either of us have much experience. Beyond theory. And our own hands."

"I didn't even get it halfway in," he muttered, appalled.

Her gaze dropped between them in horror, then snapped back up, owl-eyed. "Wait—there's more ?"

Their eyes met—and both burst into muffled chortles, trying and failing to stifle them. The tension broke. Joy, awkwardness, and something lighter swirled between them .

He slowly pulled out, stopping when she winced and then shifted to lie beside her, propped on one elbow.

He looked at her for a moment, then slowly let his gaze travel down her body.

Parting her thighs gently, he began exploring again, fingertips stroking the sensitive folds.

He traced slow circles around her clit, his touch reverent but confident now, especially when he found the spot just under it that made her arch.

When she moaned and parted her legs further, he slid one finger inside, then another, moving in and out with a rhythm that built steadily.

His eyes never left her face. When her hips started moving of their own accord, he pressed harder, more insistently.

She guided his hand, showing him exactly how she liked it, biting into her lip until a tiny drop of blood bloomed red.

The orgasm hit her like a hurricane—fast and all-consuming. Her body tensed, arched, and collapsed into a sprawl of shivering satisfaction, a soft cry escaping her throat.

Before she could breathe again, he was on her.

His eyes were wild with emotion and focus, and this time when he entered her, he was slower, more deliberate—but just as urgent.

She felt him stretch her again, his thumb finding her clit, his body moving in sync with hers, their breath tangled, their hands gripping.

He filled her completely, and together they moved, a tide they couldn't stop.

This time, they came together—his name on her lips, hers on his. Their cries split the air as the world narrowed to nothing but the rhythm of skin on skin and the ache of love made real .

Hagan collapsed on top of her, both of them panting like they'd run for miles.

Then, a pounding at the door.

"Next time you bump uglies," came Ryn's unmistakable shout, " shut the fucking window !"

A pause.

"It's like a godsdamn porn show over here," she grumbled as she walked off. “People are trying to sleep here..."

They froze. Then looked at each other.

Laughter exploded out of them, muffled and breathless. Seren clapped a hand over her mouth. Hagan buried his face in the pillow, shaking.

He turned to look at her, still chuckling, his eyes softening. He kissed her then—slow and warm, their tongues twining in an intimate dance that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with tenderness.

Eventually, he slipped away, padding to the bathroom. She heard the rush of water, a flush, and then he returned, holding a warm washcloth. Wordlessly, he knelt, parting her thighs again, and wiped away the remnants of their joining with reverent care.

"The bleeding's stopped," he murmured, gaze lingering between her thighs before he bent to kiss her gently there .

She startled. "Hagan—"

But he was already moving away, tossing the towel vaguely toward the bathroom and sliding back into bed beside her.

"You can try to kick me out now," he said, pulling her close. "But I won't go."

Their eyes met—vulnerable blue crashing with soft silver.

"I adore you," he said softly.

"I love you too," she whispered back.

And sleep claimed them both, their fingers still entwined.

Hagan shifted in the quiet dark, curling around her from behind. His chest pressed warm against her back; his breath soft against the curve of her neck. One arm slid over her waist, pulling her close, and his hand came to rest over her breast, possessive even in sleep.

Seren exhaled a soft sigh and nestled into him; her hand still locked in his.

Outside, the scent of ash lingered in the air. But inside the small room, there was only warmth, the slow thrum of heartbeats, and the silent promise of beginning again.