Page 102 of Taken
“I’m yours,” she gasps between kisses, her lips swollen, her voice raw. “Completely. No walls. No holding back.”
A growl tears from me. The sound of it rumbles the water, the walls, the very air around us.
“Mine,” I vow against her mouth, against her skin, against every place I touch. “You are mine.”
It’s a litany. A chant. And it echoes throughout every cell of my being.
Mine.
Mine.
MINE.
We move with no restraint, no hesitation. Every kiss is a claim. Every touch a promise.
The whirlpool’s currents crash in rhythm with us, the glow of magic flaring brighter until the water itself shimmers silver-blue.
The zareth snaps taut, alive, vibrating through every nerve.
She arches against me, wanton and unafraid, offering herself without reserve.
And I take her—not as a Lord claiming his mate, but as a man who has nearly lost the one thing that makes him whole.
Her cries echo in my ear—raw, beautiful, shattering me in ways no blade or monster ever could.
Each sound drives me further, deeper, past need and into something I cannot name.
It’s love.
It’s desperation.
It is the truth I’ve been running from all my life.
Inside, I chant her name like a prayer, like a curse, like a vow etched into the marrow of my bones.
Phoebe.
My Phoebe.
My Telya.
My viyella.
Her trembling fingers press against my jaw, and when her eyes find mine—luminous, unflinching—I see the word form on her lips.Forever.
The world cracks open. Magic bursts through us, raw and blinding, a tide that mirrors the storm of pleasure breaking through our bodies.
And in that moment, clarity strikes with ruthless precision.
This woman—this simple, brave, human woman—is my undoing. She is my home, my sanctuary, my salvation.
Her body shelters me.
Her heart redeems me.
Her soul makes the oath I swore to Nightfall feel small and pale.
All I want is her.
