Page 39 of Vicious Is My Throne

His pace was relentless, brutal, grinding into me with an edge of desperate hunger that bordered on animalistic, a purr building in his chest, his lean, powerful body flexing against mine.

When Tristan’s eyes met mine, there was nothing Fae in them.

They burned red as rubies, aglow with primal possessiveness. Every muscle went taut when Tristan’s mouth dropped open and a rumbling growl came out followed by a burst of sparks. He plunged in deeper, long, glorious strokes that made me burn, my last vestiges of composure crumbling until there was nothing but sensation and carnal pleasure.

Tristan reached between us and brushed his thumb across my clit. Once. Twice. He pressed down hard then rubbed, my channel clenching around his length as everything inside me imploded.

Light flashed, bursting so bright I was momentarily blinded, then release slammed into me, crashed over me, and I was sobbing Tristan’s name over and over, muscles shaking as I came apart beneath the crushing onslaught.

Tristan never stopped moving, pushing me higher and higher until I broke all over again, stars dancing against my closed eyelids, my body spending every last ounce of energy to come apart one final time, my hands slipping from his shoulders, body rocked by aftershocks.

“Gods, you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever known,” Tristan breathed, then he dropped his head and thrust into me one last time, his body shuddering as he came, my fingers digging into his hard arse as he emptied himself into me.

He collapsed half on and half off me, both of us too spent to move or even care.

Months of pent-up want and need sated at last.

“I love you, Tristan,” I murmured, eyes slipping closed as his hand stroked up and down my side. He was still inside me, one leg wrapped around mine, arm and shoulder covering me, his lips pressed to my ear.

“And this time, we’ll get that happily forever after, I promise.”

I opened my eyes to find myself nestled between Tristan and Raz, Tristan curled around me as sinuously as his wyvern and giving off enough heat to warm the entire palace.

The room smelled like woodsmoke and musk, and I buried my nose deeper into my pillow, ferreting out the faint scent of pepper and cloves, ice and pines. Everyone had been in and out of this bed tonight, making sure I was safe.

My heart caught fire knowing I was so treasured, so protected.

Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined I’d be loved so fiercely by one person, let alone four.

They’d saved me. In every way, they’d saved me.

“Four hours until dawn.” Raz tugged me against him, his corded arm looping around my waist. “I’m just resting my eyes for a few minutes.” He burrowed against me, and I smiled into the darkness.

I didn’t know what lay ahead of us, but I was absolutely sure of one thing.

They may have saved me, but I would save them right back.

13

TAVION

“What is all this, Bexley?”

I gestured to the table overflowing with potions and books and piles of scribbled, barely decipherable notes. “And what were you up to all night? Besides baking bread?”

The mage looked exhausted. We’d taken turns keeping watch last night, but Bexley hadn’t slept. I knew because every time I’d passed by this room, a thin strip of light had glowed beneath the closed door.

“Some might call this an obsession.” Bexley’s wary smile wobbled. “Others would call it folly. But this is all that’s left of my research.” Bexley swept his hand across the chaotic table, the ring on his finger glinting. “My life’s work, what few scraps remain.”

“And what is your life’s work?” I flipped one of the books closed. Ancient Rites of Forgotten Races.

“When I was but a wee boy, my master in Tempeste told me a rhyme from an old fairy tale.” He paused, then quoted,

“From the void, relentless and grim,

Their whispers chill, their presence dim.

They came to rend, to tear apart,

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