Page 93 of A Legacy of Wrath and Reckoning

The threads burned bright between them, their bond shimmering through every cell in Zylah’s body, every part of her so utterly filled with him it had tears pressing at the corners of her eyes. He withdrew again, turning her to face him and resting her back against the tiles.

Emotion rippled from him as he took her in, a hand trailing her body, the other wrapping one of her legs around his waist as he lined himself up with her again. “Tell me this isn’t a dream,” he said roughly. “That I won’t wake up and be trapped in my own mind.”

Zylah reached a hand to his face, fingers curling in his hair and kissed him softly. “This is real,” she whispered against his lips, shuffling closer for him to ease into her and catching his groan as she took all of him.

She wrapped her other leg around his waist, hips rolling against his and her head falling back. He held her like that for a moment, letting her move against him, and Zylah knew he was watching her, committing every moment of it to memory.

His lips trailed down her exposed throat, over one of her breasts, his hips moving with hers, faster, faster, the friction between their bodies sending waves of pleasure rolling through her, an ache building in her again that had her gasping for breath as he caressed her peaked nipple with his tongue.

“Holt,” she rasped.I’m yours, she told him, her release catching her by surprise and barrelling through her.

The sound that tore from him in response was nothing short of feral, his movements wild, his thrusts brutal as he spilled into her, hands tangling in her hair and pulling her to him, their kiss bruising as his mouth found hers.

Their bond hummed bright between them, every part of her so utterly filled with him, no end to where she ended and he began. Just as it was meant to be, the two of them like this, hearts beating against each other’s chests, breaths mingling, eyes dancing over each other’s faces, drinking each other in in quiet awe.

“I love you,” he said thickly, brushing damp hair from her eyes. “And I will love you even when I am gone from this life. I will never stop loving you, Zylah.”

What she felt for him went beyond devotion, beyond love, tears pressing at the corners of her eyes again. One must have broken free because Holt swiped it away with a thumb, easing out of her and lifting her into the water, reaching for a bottle of something honey-scented to lather into her aching muscles. He must have heated the water again because it was still warm, steam still rising in the air around them.

A sigh escaped her as he massaged all the spots he’d gripped tightly, all the places her body had pressed into the tiles, peppering her skin with kisses as if he couldn’t get enough of her. When he rubbed the liquid soap into her hair to massage her scalp, Zylah’s eyes fluttered shut. They both needed this. This time to touch, to explore. To be together in all the ways they hadn’t been able to. Time was not on their side, but it never had been, and they were content to steal whatever moments they could before they faced what came next.

Holt cupped the back of her head as he lowered her into the water to rinse her hair, his other hand at her throat to steal another kiss that heated her skin instantly. A playful laugh rumbled in his chest, and he pulled her into his arms, wiping water from her face as she kissed him back. But she wasn’t done taking caring of him, either.

Content in his arms, she worked the muscles at his shoulders, his neck. Lathered soap into his hair, another rumble sounding from him when she raked her fingers against his scalp. All of it between kisses, her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands trailing her body, her skin pebbling beneath his touch. He was already hard again between them. Holt’s eyes never tore away from her face, chuckling with her when frothy soap landed on his cheek.

He released her to lower himself beneath the water to wash everything away, his eyes still crinkled with laughter when he resurfaced. Zylah’s breath caught at the sight, a fierce possessiveness overtaking her as she pressed a hand to his heart, watching the droplets of water roll over his corded muscles, his scars. He was alive. He was hers. She was his.

Holt caught her hand. “You’re mine,” he agreed, and she knew he’d heard her. His arms banded around her body, capturing her mouth in another searing kiss, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Zylah raised her hips to sink onto him again, both of them sucking in a shared breath as he held her to him, their movements soft and slow. “I love you,” she breathed against his lips, her ruined eyes holding his perfect forest green gaze.

Holt’s tongue swept between her lips at her words, and then they were moving, tenderly this time, every rise and fall of Zylah’s hips a declaration, every drive of his a promise. An admission. That nothing could keep them apart, not even death. Zylah rode him until the pleasure mounted, until they were panting and gasping against each other’s mouths and release found them both.

As much as she wanted nothing more than to remain at the court, naked and sated in Holt’s arms, Zylah had given Mae her word she’d return, and though she was loath to admit it, they needed the High Lady’s cooperation.

But she had made a promise, and Zylah intended to keep it. Holt didn’t object as they dressed, heated glances and knowing smiles passing between them as they pulled on each item of clothing, his hands reaching for her more than once to caress her skin, to steal another kiss from her swollen lips.

They’d managed a few hours of sleep, and though they’d needed it, neither of them had wanted to waste their time together with a decent bed available to them, their little spurts of slumber broken by their inability to keep their hands off each other.

The space around them bore the brunt of their desire: a shattered dresser where Holt had fucked her against it, a lounger with a splintered leg after he’d taken her over the back of it, a coffee table overturned, their bed sheets messy and twisted. Each moment a new first for them as a mated couple, another memory to etch into their souls.

“If I decide not to give Mae the antidote…” Zylah began, watching Holt tuck his shirt into his trousers, his hand swiping over the vee of muscle at his hip bone that she’d trailed her mouth over a few minutes before and causing her pulse to quicken. She focused on the clavaria mushroom that sat in her bag, the way it would dissolve in boiling water to make the antidote Mae needed for the alcane as she finished her braid.

Holt tipped her chin with finger and thumb, his other hand cupping her cheek. “Then we’ll face the consequences together.” His assurance danced over her skin, twined with his unwavering support and strengthening her resolve.

Zylah took one last look at their room, the ocean beyond the archway to the balcony as fierce and unrelenting as ever against the rocks far below. A shiver passed over her at what had almost come to pass, Holt’s comfort surpassing it as his fingers curled around hers and he evanesced them away.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Itwasdarkbythe time they returned to Mae’s court, both of them taking a swig from the canister of spelled water Ellisar had given them as they caught their breaths in the forest beyond it.

Any trace of the monsters they’d fought a few days prior had completely gone, the clearing entirely covered by snow trodden thin by horses’ hooves. Though Zylah’s threads had returned to their full strength, they weren’t powerful enough to pass through the number of wards protecting the court, and Holt shared her trepidation at what they might find waiting for them.

“That’s a lot of footfall for three days,” he said quietly at her side, his breath clouding in front of him. Zylah’s other sight had returned with the strength of her threads, but shadows still blotted out most of what she could see with her eyes, creating weak spots where it overlaid with what she ‘saw’ via her magic. She doubted whether even an effective anti-venom could save them now.

Another surge of comfort flared down their bond, and Zylah shot Holt an appreciative smile. He was at full strength, too, and it wasn’t lost on either of them how much their healing and their magic was so intricately entwined, Zylah’s ruined eyesight the only exception.

Nothing about you is ruined, he told her fiercely, one hand cupping her cheek as he leaned down to brush a kiss over her lips.Ready?

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