Page 122 of Warrior's Reign
“I’m not going to sleep with you without an emotional commitment. Because I know you—you would marry me, share a life, a bed, children. . .but never really give me all of you. And if I was a dumb broad, I wouldn’t even know it.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “In case there was any doubt, I’m not a dumb broad.”
He watched her, motionless, his expression smoothed back to an almost Silent calm. Reign grimaced internally. She was going to have to get used to Eredan being Vykhan and vice versa. Get used to her lover being her First.
“Your ultimatum is pointless,” he said, voice very gentle. Even as her stomach sank, he reached for the hem of his shirt and ripped it over his head.
Once the dense black cloth was gone, she saw what it had covered.
They were crawling, his tattoos. All over his arms and biceps, sparking with whatever internal magtech enlivened them. She knew of only one reason that ever happened.
“I tried to give you up,” he said. “Not because I think my Silence is damned if I have you—I may have thought that before, but no longer. But because the gap of experience between us. . .” he shook his head. “I’ve spoken on that at length and I suspect you’re as sick of hearing it as I am of speaking it. You were right, Reign.”
Reign blinked, held up a hand. “Wait, wait, can we activate records in here?”
“I decided that of all the things I have lost because of my weakness—my honor, my soul—I refuse to lose you.”
She stared at him, tried to calm the rollercoaster happening in her veins as adrenaline and every other damn chemical danced around. Was this fight or flight? Her body didn’t have a clue.
He held out a hand. “Everything that I am is yours. It will take time for us to truly know one another, but I vow to you, I will hide nothing of myself.”
“And Lohail?”
“Is my past. You are my future.”
She took his hand, knowing what process would resume once their fingertips touched. Lohail had been correct, after all. She’d known what the sparking meant. What the growing connection between them, the awareness, meant. All the tension she held inside, bracing to keep herself from sinking in him, relaxed.
All she needed was his word, his vow, his bond.
“Yes,” she whispered, feeling a prick of tears.
He drew her in slowly, enveloped her in his arms. Arms that felt like home. Her Eredan. Finally, and forever.
But it couldn’t be all sap and sweetness and hugs. After the first drip of her tears touched against his bare chest, the first release granting her peace, his body began to tense. A new energy thrumming under his skin as the comfort of his arms morphed into a dark, sensual cave.
“Reign,” he said in his cruel croon. “Arreina Rhyksai. My lover, my wife. Mine.”
She looked up, met a gaze stripped bare, hunger with no checks, and the hair on the back of her neck stood at attention.
Taking a careful breath, she extricated herself from his hold, stepped back once. He followed. She stepped back again.
With each pace he matched her, patient, stalking. His back always in front of the exit.
Well, she’d figured that car had left the racetrack.
Reign smiled, tugged at the halter strap of her gown, and released the top. Her breasts swung free as fabric pooled at her waist.
“If you want me,” she said, “come and claim me.”
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He yankedher against him and slammed his mouth over hers, the kiss scorching. Relentless. He stole her breath and even her blood, his fangs slipping their sheaths to nick at her lips.
“Fuck,” she swore, tasting copper inside her mouth. She’d wanted him to stop pretending, to not be so perfect.
The final crack in his facade. Vykhan’s hands bunched in the skirt of the dress, yanking material up her thighs.
“You speak so lightly of my claiming,” he said, voice dark, unlike she had ever heard it. “I’m inclined to show you some mercy as I know you still don’t understand.”
Reign curled her lip at him. “Did all those years in a Vow of Silence make you love the sound of your own voice? I can think of better uses for your tongue.”
