Page 75 of Sixth
He kissed her, slow, certain, aclaiming without command.
The light deepened around them, bright and alive, the Valenmark’s glow spilling over their joined hands as if the universe itself drew breath. Her fingers slid up his chest, finding the pulse beneath his collarbone, tracing the line of his jaw until his composure fractured into pureneed.
His mouth moved to her throat, to the hollow where heartbeat met skin. He whispered against her, voice rough. “This is what peace feels like.”
Her reply came soft but fierce. “Then never let it end.”
He gathered her closer. Her gown pooled between them, silk brushing his skin as he found the fastenings along her back. She trembled, breath catching as the fabric slipped away. The Valenmark flared—bright, alive—mirroring every breath, every heartbeat, every unspokenword.
When she rose on her toes to meet his mouth again, it was no longer ceremony. It was surrender andvow.
He drew in a long breath, steadying himself against the rush of heat that met her touch. His fingers found her shoulders, sliding down the line of her arms until their hands met again. The pulse beneath their joined palms quickened.
She lifted her face to his, her voice a whisper. “You said peace was this… Does it mean it only exists when you’re touching me?”
He smiled faintly. “No. But it’s strongest then.”
He bent, brushing a kiss against her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. Her breath hitched, and the warmth between them coiled tighter. The world outside that moment ceased to exist. The chamber lights dimmed, responding to the energy rising from their marks.
Apex’s control slipped another inch. His hands traced her spine, the arch of her back, the small of it where her skin warmed beneath his touch. She leaned into him, her body softening as her fingers slid into hishair.
“Every world is aware we’ve disappeared,” she murmured.
“I do not care.”
“They’ll know what we’re doing.”
“And envy us.”
His voice carried the credence of a vow, not arrogance. When he lifted her, setting her onto a cushioned bench, the movement was slow, reverent, full of restrained power. Her breath caught, the sound trembling with wonder as her palms pressed against his shoulders. Beneath her fingers his muscles flexed, solid and real, and for the first time since the war began she felt utterlysafe.
He kissed her again, deeper this time, his mouth claiming hers with a hunger that had been building through battles and blood and the razor’s edge of survival. His tongue swept against hers, demanding, possessive, and she opened for him completely. The taste of him flooded her senses, heat and something unique to him that made her dizzy withneed.
His hands shifted to her waist, fingers splaying across her ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts through thethin fabric of her underclothes. She arched into the touch, asoft sound escaping her throat that made him growl in response. The Valenmark pulsed between them, each beat sending waves of heat spiraling through her body until she was molten, liquid, desperate formore.
“Apex,” she breathed against his mouth. “The war is over. We won.”
“We did more than win.” His voice was rough gravel and silk. “We survived to claim this.”
He drew back just enough to look at her, his amethyst eyes blazing with barely restrained desire. His hands moved from the last clasp of her gown to the delicate ties of her undergarments, fingers working with surprising deftness despite the determination running through him. Each ribbon loosened was like another wall crumbling between who they’d been and who they were becoming, until the soft fabric slid away entirely, leaving nothing between his touch and her bareskin.
Cool air kissed her, raising goosebumps that had nothing to do with temperature. His gaze traveled over her slowly, possessively, as if committing every curve and hollow to memory.
“Perfect,” he murmured, the word carrying authority. “Every part of you.”
“Show me,” she said, reaching for him with steady hands. “Show me what we fought for.”
Her fingers found the edges of his formal jacket, pushing it back over his shoulders. He shrugged out of it impatiently, letting it fall forgotten to the marble floor. Beneath, his shirt strained across the breadth of his chest. She made quick work of the fastenings, her hands trembling with urgencynow.
When she finally bared his chest, she couldn’t help but trace the lines of old scars with her fingertips, amap of battles won and survived. He stood still under her exploration, letting her learn him, his breathing growing heavier with each stroke. The faint shimmer of his skin seemed brighter now, pulsing in time with the Valenmark.
“We have spent our lives destroying what others built,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “Now we create.”
She answered him not with words but with a kiss that held every unspoken promise. Her hands slid up his chest, over his shoulders, into his silver hair. She pulled him closer, needing the full length of him against her, skin to skin, heat toheat.
He groaned into her mouth, his constraint fracturing. His hands moved to her hips, lifting her fully onto the ledge and stepping between her parted thighs. The pressure of him against her core, made her gasp. She could feel the hard evidence of his desire, the ridged texture pressing insistently, promising sensations she remembered and craved.
“Emmeline,” he breathed, forehead pressed to hers. “I need you to understand what this means. Here. In this sacred place. This is more than passion. It’s a covenant.”
