Page 43 of Black Crown

He lowered his head, his lips hovering just above my mouth, and then brushing my lips, he said, “Tell me if you like this.”

Tyrrik kissed me, nipping my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth to him. His tongue stroked mine and his hands caressed me, his touch my entire world. When he put distance between us, I whispered his name. A plea.

He stood me at the edge of the bath, dropped his undergarments, and glanced back as he got in. “You’ve still got clothes on.”

Problem solved. I followed him into the bath.

Steam rose from the water, swirling around us. Tyrrik’s onyx power seeped through the room. My lapis energy danced and dipped, and as the two powers met, they tangled around each other and flared, the sudden glow bursting through the bathroom.

Tyrrik continued the pretense of his game, asking question after question, driving me steadily insane until there was no me or him, no separate bodies, no separate powers.

There was only us. Tender touches, the silken stroke of fingers, whisper-soft caresses, and soul-deep sighs.

We pushed each other to places of aching desperation. And when the stars and moons exploded, lights burst behind my eyelids.

Our lives intertwined, indiscernible as mine or his.

Tyrrik was mine.

And I was his.

* * *

“Tyrryn?”Tyrrik asked, tracing his finger down my face.

I groaned, batting his hand away, too lacking in sleep after our love-making to want to be up this early.

“Tyrryn,” he growled. “Mate.”

Then I processed what he’d said and sat up holding the sheet to my chest.

“Tear-Ryn?” I scrunched my nose at the name on my lips. It sounded . . . odd. Not that I was opposed to our mate-bond, but I wasn’t so sure I wanted to be Tyrryn, tearin’ through the sky. Tearin’ to the gems.

“Tearing through the sky?” he asked, faint amusement in his voice.

But underneath the forced humor, I could feel his confusion and hurt. Whoa. The bond-thing was legitimately stronger.

“I don’t understand,” Tyrrik said, his brow furrowing. “You don’t like my name?”

Okay, that might’ve sounded a bit . . . rude. Tyrrik leaned over me, and heaviness settled in my chest as I peered up at him. “I’ve only ever been Ryn, and my mom was Ryhl. The r-y is kinda the only thing I have left from my mother, Tyrrik. It’d be like me asking you to be Ryrik. I’m just not sure . . .”

He searched my face, his expression serious, not even going for the Ryrik-bait. He nodded and asked, “What would you like to do?”

“I could still be Ryn, and you could still be Tyrrik?” I said weakly. “We’re mates. Officially, if we have to write it down somewhere, I’m from the house of Tyr. I’m one hundred percent team Tyr. But everyday . . . I’m just going to be Ryn. Maybe we dispense with that part of human tradition?”

Amusement flooded his eyes. “And where do you think that human tradition came from?”

A moment passed before I got it. “Really?” I asked pointing at him. “It’s a Drae thing? So, does that mean I would’ve been Draeryn because the emperor is Draedyn?” And I thoughtTyrrynwas odd. “I like Ryn.”

His features smoothed, and I grasped his thoughts just a fraction before he spoke them aloud. “If I compromise on this, will you promise to remain by my side?”

“Like conjoined twins?” I asked glibly.

“No, just within the vicinity,” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “I want to be able to get to you quickly if someone tries to hurt you.That’swhat I mean. If you’re days away, I can’t protect you.”

His words hung heavy in the air. I frowned, struggling to separate my wants from his. A part of me desperately wanted to never be without him, but swearing to always being that close was a big issue.Alwaysleft no room for freedom. “Are we starting that again? After what we shared last night?”

“No, my mate,” he said, kissing away my frown. “I would not have that.”

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