Page 94 of The Bound Mage
They collapsed into each other, tangled and breathless. Loren held her, tracing slow, reverent paths across her sweat-slick skin. His lips brushed her temple, her cheek, the curve of her jaw—whatever he could reach. Reminding her with every kiss that he was still here. That they both were here—alive and together.
And then, someone knocked on the door.
“Ignore it,” Loren growled. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, tangling his fingers in her hair.
“It could be important.” Araya said. But she didn’t move, pressing a kiss to his lips, the corner of his mouth, his jaw?—
“Loren!” Thorne pounded on the door again, rattling it on its hinges. “I know you’re in there. Open the damned door!”
Loren froze, his forehead falling against hers. A low growl rumbled in his chest, equal parts frustration and resignation.
“I could kill him,” he groaned against her lips. “He’s my best friend, but I swear?—”
He dragged himself away with a curse, yanking his breeches on.
“Don’t move,” he said, the words landing somewhere between a command and a desperate plea. “I’ll get rid of him.”
“Hurry,” Araya whispered, her lips brushing against his before she nipped at his bottom lip.
Loren hissed, the sting of the playful bite threatening to break his fragile grasp on his restraint. He pulled away slowly, staring like he could memorize the sight of her spread out beneath him—flushed and radiant in the firelight.
His. His mate. His queen.His.
He tugged one of the soft blankets over her, his hand smoothing down her side in a silent promise before he stalkedacross the room and yanked the door open just enough to peer out the crack at Thorne.
“What?” Loren hissed.
“Goddess, Loren.” Thorne shoved the door wide, barging into the room without a care for the furious king he shoulder-checked out of the way. “At least button your breeches properly before you yell at me.”
Araya yelped, clutching the blanket tighter around herself as Thorne glanced at her, his eyes widening for a heartbeat before jerking away.
“Apologies, Araya,” he said quickly, grinning at the air somewhere above her head. “Hate to intrude.”
A low, dangerous growl rumbled from Loren’s chest. He stepped between Thorne and the bed, blocking her from view. “What the hell do you want, Thorne?”
“Scouts spotted New Dominion ships on the Shadowed Sea.” Thorne’s smirk slipped, the humor draining from his expression as he met Loren’s gaze. “They’re headed straight for us.”
Loren swore under his breath. “How many?”
“Six,” Thorne replied, his voice grim. “No idea how they were making it through the shadows—but we never would have seen them in time if the mists hadn’t lifted when they did. Now, with nothing in their way... they’ll be here by morning.”
“Jaxon is with them,” Araya whispered behind him, all the passion that had suffused their bond just moments ago gone cold.
Loren closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. One night—that’s all he’d wanted. One night with her, to spend without fear and war. And the world couldn’t even give them that.
“Gather whoever isn’t too drunk to advise in the council hall,” he ordered Thorne. “Sober up anyone who needs it. Make sure Eloria and Galen are there—and the scouts who spotted the ships. I want a full report.”
Thorne hesitated. His sharp eyes flicked between them, something unspoken tightening in his expression. “Are you?—”
“I’ll be down shortly.” Loren said.
For a moment, it seemed like Thorne might push—but then he nodded and turned, his footfalls echoing as he disappeared back down the stairs.
Loren stayed where he was, his back against the door, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He closed his eyes. Just for a breath.
Six ships full of New Dominion soldiers. And Jaxon, coming straight for them. Coming forher. Because the Shaws never stopped until they got what they wanted.
“He’s using an amplifier,” Araya whispered. She’d sat up, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. “He had one working tester when we escaped—I’m better at inscribing, but he has three vials of your blood and six of mine…I gave him everything he needed.” She swallowed hard. “This is my fault, Loren.”
