Page 118 of Burning Heir

The invisible tether between us tugged, synching the frayed edges of distance and silence that had lingered for too long.

“If it gets too intense, say something,” he murmured, his breath warm against my chin. “Our bodies will react to the bonding process.”

“I can handle it. Can you?” I teased, though my breath hitched as his proximity sent heat racing through my veins.

His lips quirked. “You consume my thoughts, Severyn Blanche. I nearly crumble every time I see or touch you.” His fingers grazed my thigh, igniting sparks of need that coiled low in my belly.

“Take your clothes off,” he said, his voice low, almost commanding. “You’re overheating.”

“I’m fine,” I protested, though the heat beneath my skin betrayed me.

He hooked a thumb in my belt loop, a wicked grin playing on his lips. “I could always take them off for you.”

I slipped out of my bottoms, kicking them to the floor. Sitting there, stripped down to my undergarments, I felt vulnerable yet alive under his gaze. His eyes lingered, tracing the lines of my body.

“Claiming my health is at risk to get me undressed? Convenient,” I said, arching a brow.

“You’re not undressed enough,” he countered, his hands sliding over my bare legs. “I want to see all of you before sanity returns.”

His shadows traced along my thighs, pulling a soft moan from my lips. “Bond with me,” I whispered, my voice trembling with anticipation.

“Feel for it,” he said, his tone velvety, coaxing.

The bond snapped into place, a slow, electric tether wrapping us together. His thoughts brushed against mine, darkness swirling like ink in water. It wasn’t invasive; it was a gentle, steady hand guiding me.

“Bond with me,” I repeated, my plea more desperate.

His fingers slipped beneath my garments. Pleasure knotted deep as he moved deliberately, coaxing my body to respond. My thighs tightened, a shuddered breath slipping free as he nipped at the buttons of my shirt.

“If we’re going to bond, I want your first thoughts of me filled with pleasure,” he murmured, his voice like a growl against my skin. “You despised me days ago.”

A black flame flickered to life on my palm. I was burning him, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away.

“How am I supposed to feel about you now?” I whispered, my hand brushing his sleeve, the fabric singeing under my touch.

“Pleasure. Desire. Hate if you must,” he said, his lips teasing the curve of my neck. “But for the next hour, I want every breath you take to be my name.”

“Archer…” I gasped, pulling back to see the burn marks on his shirt. His skin, untouched, bore no sign of my fire.

“I can handle your burn,” he said, his eyes alight with amusement.

I grabbed his jaw, kissing him deeply, fiercely. “Is that so?”

He pulled back just enough to breathe in the ash I exhaled, his shadows binding my wrists to the bed as I reached for him. “Slow, Severyn.”

“This isn’t fair,” I bit out, struggling against the restraints.

He brought my wrist to his lips, kissing the flame relic there. “I thought you only had one demand?” His voice was a dark tease. “And you have a big trial tomorrow.”

His lips traveled along my collarbone, down to my chest. His thumb traced over my skin with maddening precision before he released the shadow tethers, leaving me breathless and aching.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, meeting his wicked gaze.

“I don’t want to tire you out—for both our sakes,” he said, his voice softer. “Rider bonds can drain energy. I could steal your entire quell for a day and leave you bare for the trial. As it is, I already taste ash in my lungs.”

“I understand.” I crawled farther onto the bed, and Archer rolled onto his side, resting his head on his hand as he watched me. The night breeze from the open window sliced through the heat between us.

“Sleep, Severyn. Please,” he said, his voice gentler now. “Our bond is strong enough to hold us, even if we take nothing further tonight. This bond… ours… it’s what we make it.”

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