Page 144 of Kingdom of Ash

But something primal in her went quiet and still as Rowan rose over her again, and their eyes locked.

“You’re my mate,” he said, the words near-guttural. He nudged at her entrance, and she shifted her hips to draw him in, but he remained where he was. Withholding what she ached for until he heard what he needed.

Aelin tipped back her head, baring her neck to him. “You’re my mate.” Her words were a breathless rush. “And I am yours.”

Rowan thrust into her in a mighty stroke as he plunged his teeth into the side of her neck.

She cried out at the claiming, release already barreling along her spine, but he began moving. Moving, while his teeth remained in her, and she moaned with each drive of his hips, the sheer size of him a decadence she would never be able to get enough of. She dragged her nails down his muscled back, then lower, feeling every powerful stroke of him into her.

Rowan withdrew his teeth from her neck, and Aelin claimed his mouth in a savage kiss, her blood a coppery tang on his tongue.

He went wild at that, hoisting her hips to angle himself deeper, harder. The world might have been burning around them for all she cared, all he cared, too.

“Together, Aelin,” he promised, and she heard the rest of the words in every place their bodies joined. Together they would face this, together they would find a way.

Release crested within her once more, a shimmering brightness.

And just when it broke, Aelin sank her teeth into Rowan’s neck, claiming him as he’d claimed her.

His blood, powerful and wind-kissed, filled her mouth, her soul, and Rowan roared as release shattered through him, too.

For long minutes, they lay tangled in each other.

Together we’ll find a way, their mingling breaths, the crashing sea, seemed to echo.Together.

CHAPTER 42

Lorcan was given the last watch of the night, which allowed him to witness the sunrise over the now-distant horizon.

Would he ever see it again—Wendlyn, Doranelle, any of that eastern land?

Perhaps not, considering what they sailed to in the west, and the immortal army Maeve had no doubt set on their heels. Perhaps they were all doomed to limited sunrises.

The others roused, venturing onto the deck to learn what the morning brought. Nothing, he almost told them from where he stood by the prow. Water and sun and a whole lot of nothing.

Fenrys spotted him and bared his teeth. Lorcan gave him a mocking smile.

Yes, that fight would come later. He’d welcome it, the chance to ease the tightness from his bones, to let Fenrys tear into him a bit.

He wouldn’t kill the wolf, though. Fenrys might try to kill him, butLorcan wouldn’t do it. Not after what Fenrys had endured—what he’d managed to do.

Elide emerged from belowdecks, hair braided and smooth. As if she’d been up before the dawn. She barely looked his way, though he knew she was well aware of his location. Lorcan blocked out the hollow pang in his chest.

But Aelin spied him, and there was more clarity in her face than there’d been these past few days as she stalked for where he stood. More of that swagger in her gait, too.

The sleeves of her white shirt had been rolled to the elbow, her hair braided back. Goldryn and a long knife hung from her belt. Ready for training. Primed for it, judging by the bristling energy that buzzed around her.

Lorcan met her halfway, descending the small stairs.

Whitethorn lingered nearby, also dressed for sparring, the wariness in his eyes telling Lorcan enough: the prince had no idea what this was about.

But the young queen crossed her arms. “Do you plan to sail with us to Terrasen?”

An unnecessary question for dawn, and in the middle of the sea. “Yes.”

“And you plan to join us in this war?”

“I’m certainly not going there to enjoy the weather.”

---