Page 44 of The Bound Mage
“Araya.” Thorne’s quiet voice snapped her out of her spiral. “That hollow, torn up feeling you’re struggling with—it’s the bond. It doesn’t mean you’re weak or broken. It just means you’re fae and missing your mate.”
“I don’twantto miss him,” Araya snapped.
“I know.” Thorne’s amber gaze held hers, as calm and kind as always. “It’s magic—but it’s alsobiology. The bond doesn’t care how angry you are, or how much you want to fight it. You’re perfectly matched, stronger together than you are apart. It’s going to keep pulling you closer, because that’s what it was made to do. To keep you both safe.”
Her throat worked, but she didn’t answer.
“If you don’t want to see him,” Thorne continued softly, “you might consider finding some other way to feel close to him. It could help ease the ache.”
Araya scoffed. “I’d have to be desperate.”
Chapter
Eighteen
But that night,sleep wouldn’t come.
Araya tossed and turned, fighting with her blankets until they were a twisted mess. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Serafina’s face, bruised and broken. Sometimes she saw Loren but the way he had been when she first met him, scarred and broken in the dark. Her chest ached, the pull she’d drowned under all of Thorne’s useless tasks alive and twisting around her heart.
Finally she gave up, throwing back the covers. She padded barefoot into the hall, not letting herself think too hard about where she was going. There was no little shadow for her to follow tonight, but the throb in her chest was direction enough, leading her straight to the royal family’s personal wing.
She walked through the front room, the bond tugging her past the book of poetry left facedown on the table and the paintings he had finally uncovered. It dragged her forward, until her hand was pressed against a familiar door.
It opened at a touch, swinging soundlessly into the room.
She slipped inside, closing the door softly behind her. The air smelled faintly of granite and rain, shadows clustered thickly at the edges of the room. Emerald curtains hung heavy around therumpled bed, matching the drapes flung open to reveal the wall of windows, letting muted moonlight spill into the room.
Araya breathed in deeply, Loren’s scent wrapping around her. It drove her mad that it could be so many things to her—soothing and infuriating all at the same time, much like the male himself. She had no doubt he’d be insufferable if he knew she was here.
But he’d left her here. Abandoned her with Thorne and Veria. So he would never know.
She climbed into the wide bed, pulling the blankets over her and letting exhaustion finally pull her under.
Warmth surrounded her,a vibrant contrast to the cool shadows that slid across her bare legs. They twined around her like silk ribbons, brushing the edge of her shift as they climbed her thighs, sliding across her hip and the soft plane of her stomach. She shivered, gasping as she arched into their touch.
They answered instantly, tearing a whimper from her as they swirled across her ribs, spiraling higher in teasing patterns that made her breasts ache with every pass. Another ribbon slid across the back of her neck, winding into her hair, tugging gently until her head tipped back.
A low sound vibrated against her neck, the solidmalewarmth behind her shifting in answer. His chest pressed against her spine. Warm lips and sharp teeth dragged across her skin in lazy kisses and sharp nips, the sting soothed by the wet slide of a tongue.
Araya floated in it, caught between waking and sleep, her body pliant and heavy. The shadows brushed lower, ghosting over the tender inside of her thigh, stopping just shy of whereshe needed them most. She bit back a cry, only for another tendril to swirl over her breast, circling the peak until she arched helplessly, clutching at the strong arm caging her against his chest.
A soft laugh tickled the scarred tip of her ear, the scent of granite and cold rain washing over her. She reached back, clawing her fingers through silken strands of hair. He washard, his bare skin scorching through the thin fabric of her shift. She ground back against him, the tortured noise that tore from his chest almost enough to jerk her back to wakefulness. It was a dream—butgodsthe way he felt. The ache in her chest was gone, filling her with light until she felt like she might float away. There was something she should realize about that?—
But one of those teasing shadows slipped higher, and the half-formed thought drained away with the moan it tore from her. It circled a peaked nipple, dragging across it until she broke with a soft cry. She wanted. No sheneeded?—
“Fuck,” Loren hissed the word against her ear, his hand fisting in the fabric of her nightgown. “Araya?—”
Her name burned through the haze like wildfire, lightning racing across her skin. Her heart tripped in her chest, slamming against the cage of her ribs like it was desperate for escape. This was only a dream, buttheirdreams werereal?—
Araya lurched forward, tearing herself from his grasp. Loren pulled back at the same instant, the shadows snapping away from her so suddenly her body cried out, desperate for them to return—but she was awake now.
“What are you doing here?” Araya scrambled across the bed, putting as much space as she could between herself and the stunned, wide-eyed fae prince whose warmth she could still feel on her skin.
“What am I—” he blinked at her, then at their surroundings. “Are you in my bed?”
Heat rushed into her face, shame burning hotter than the ache still coiling low in her belly. She couldn’t do this. Not with him. She dragged the sheet up over herself, taking another step back as the dream shuddered around them both. The shadows cried out, reaching for her—but the dream cracked apart, shattering around her like glass.
Araya jolted awake, her chest heaving. Loren’s blankets twisted around her legs, her skin still buzzing from the feel of his lips on her skin, his shadowstouchingher. Every ragged breath was suffused with his scent, drowning her in him. The bond clawed at her chest, desperate for something they couldn’t actually have.
