Page 58 of War Mage

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I wake to a gentle shaking of my shoulder.

“Wake up, Adara,” comes Urim’s voice. “There is news.”

Groggily, I climb to consciousness, shaking off the remnants of sleep at the orc’s words. My eyes open to see Urim, looking clean and refreshed, wearing a new pair of low-slung trousers. He must have bathed and changed clothes while I slept. “What news?” I ask sluggishly.

“Grazrath has been expelled from the palace, but he escaped before Malik could kill him. Malik has his soldiers searching for him, but there’s no sign of him yet. But we are invited to the palace as guests of Malik, as the new king.”

“New king?” I repeat, sitting up in the bed. “Malik works fast.”

“He does,” Urim replies solemnly. “He has declared an end to the war and has already sent a request for a ceasefire to King Rognar and Queen Adalind, which I am sure they will accept. This is the outcome they hoped for.”

“I’m sure they hoped Grazrath would be dead or banished back to the Nether, not just missing,” I point out. “He could still make trouble from another quarter.”

“Yes, but at least the war is over and Grazrath is off the Barakrini throne,” Urim says. “Now let us hurry. The sooner we meet with Malik, the sooner we can go back to Adrik and your Mage’s Tower.”

“My Mage’s Tower?” I ask, incredulously, but with a hint of hope. “You would come with me to the Mage’s Tower?”

“Of course,” he responds evenly. “We are mates. I must go with you.”

His words are factual, but for some reason they irk me. “And if we weren't mates, would you still come with me?” I press.

“That question is moot,” he replies, still calmly logical. “We are mates and I must go with you.”

“Not if we sever the soultie,” I bring up stubbornly. “If you don’t want to come with me, I can free you from our mating. Is that what you want?”

Urim pauses, looking at me with an expressionless face, giving nothing away. Even the bond is just that placid calm that he covers his true emotions with. Finally, he asks, “Are you asking me this because you want to break our mating, like we originally planned, or because you don’t?”

His question makes me feel vulnerable, defensive. “I asked you what you wanted first.”

“I thought I made it clear,” he says, still calm. “You are my mate. I will go where you go.”

“But I don’t want you to come with me just because we’re mates!” I burst out. “We became mates for the mission. It’s not real! If you are going to choose me, then choose me, not because of some bond that we share because of a plan that we made to kill a demon!”

“You misunderstand me, Adara,” Urim says, but his voice is more gentle than before. He picks up my hands and places them over his heart. “You are mymate.The word has meaning for me. Not because of the bite that I admittedly gave you for the mission, but because my heart has chosen you. I would not follow you to your Tower for any other reason than that you are my soul’s mate, my other half. I do not want to sever our soultie; I want to be with you for the rest of my days, however long that may be. Is that what you want?”

My heart squeezes with happiness. I impulsively lean forward and kiss his lips, capturing them with mine. “That is what I want,” I breathe. “More than anything.”

Urim’s thrum spills out as he takes my lips again. Pleasant sensation shivers across my skin at the sound and I moan at the pleasure. Urim bears me down to the mattress with a growl, making me wet with his aggressive display.

“I thought we needed to go to Malik . . .” I gasp out as his hands come up and massage my breasts, palms rubbing deliciously across my needy nipples.

“Hang Malik,” Urim snarls. “I need to be with my mate.”

He takes my lips again, his tongue dancing sensually with mine, licking into my mouth with ownership. In the bond I can feel his fierce pleasure, his joy that I agreed to be his, his triumph. His feelings answer mine, which are much the same. This stoic, impenetrable orc is mine now. His closely guarded feelings are mine to feel and protect, his heart in my keeping, his trust my treasure.

Almost reverently, Urim divests me of my clothing before pulling off his trousers. He sits across the mattress from me and with heavy-lidded eyes commands, “Crawl to me, my mate.”

His order, laden withsibilanceand meaning, sends shivers down my spine. My desire to obey and make him happy wars with my desire to rebel and be punished. As if he can see my struggle, Urim raises a brow and says, “If you obey me, you’ll like your reward.”

Hmm . . . that is tempting. Enticing in its mystery. Making up my mind, I obediently crawl across the bed to him, causing him to growl in approval. When I get close to him, he strokes his fingers through my hair. “Good female. Now you earn your prize.”

In a flurry of movement, Urim is on his back, pulling me over his chest, positioning my center directly over his mouth. “Sit on me, mate, and let me feast on your nectar,” he orders.

That is an order I will gladly follow. But to torture him a little with anticipation, I lower myself slowly, staying just out of reach for a moment.

“Hellion,” he thrums, then his large hands grip my thighs and pull me down so that he can take what he wants. I gasp and moan as his clever tongue works its magic, vibrating with hissibilance, massaging and licking, finding all my weak spots and exploiting them. His nose nuzzles at my clit, while his tongue invades my channel. The vibrations feel so good and his thrum already has me on edge and I cry out as I come, a light orgasm rolling over my senses. But he doesn’t stop there. He works me over again and again, his fingers joining his tongue as he massages that secret place inside me and making me drench his face in my arousal.

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