Chapter 27
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
Barbie
“Just like that, he’s gone.” Silas slammed his fist onto the marble island so hard the whiskey bottles jumped and clattered. “Ruin and his entire army vanished like a fart in the wind.”
The heirs had been theorizing non-stop since we’d stumbled back through the Veil. Each explanation was more desperate than the last—we’d found a weakness, it was a trap, he was gathering reinforcements. Nobody wanted to voice the unsettling truth: we had no fucking clue why we were still alive.
All I wanted was to spend the last day with just my mate, but I couldn’t be that selfish. The entire realm was on a knife’s edge, waiting for the next catastrophe, and Killian, as the newly crowned King of Chaos, was shackled by a mountain of responsibilities.
His storm-blue eyes tracked my every move across the room. Through our bond, his anxiety was a cold, heavy stone in my gut. He knew something was terribly wrong, but I buried my turmoil and fear deep, shielding him with every ounce of my will.
Sy kept trying to corner me, her gold eyes sharp with suspicion. I’d become an expert at evasion —always finding someone else to talk to or somewhere else to be. Everyone’s nerves were shot, making it easy to slip away in the chaos.
Six hours left, and my anxiety spiked. My skin felt tight, like it might crack at any time. My stomach ached relentlessly, a hollow pit where hunger gnawed. Yet for the first time, I had no appetite.
“Enough.” Killian’s voice cut through another circular argument about defensive positions. “It’s nearly dawn. My mate needs rest, and you all need sleep.”
No one argued. A heavy fog of exhaustion had settled over everyone.
With a sharp gesture, Killian opened a portal to the dragon realm. The moment we stepped through, he sealed it behind us, ensuring no one, especially Sy, could follow.
We inhaled the crisp mountain air. This was Tyson’s only home, and ours now, too. Here, we had ultimate privacy. No guards, no interruptions. Just the silent white peaks, a blanket of stars, the vast bed, and us.
He led me to the massive bed on the open rooftop of his mountain villa, settling us among the soft furs.
“How are you holding up, baby?” he asked, perched on the edge of the mattress as he pulled me against the solid strength of his chest.
“I’m holding up,” I said, my hands linking behind his neck.
I wanted to stay locked in his arms, which felt like the only safe place left, and never let go.
But as I was so fond of lecturing Sy, we can’t always get what we want.
So I would cherish every second I had. “How are you holding up, snowflake?”
His lips twitched at the old nickname—Sy’s insult of choice for him when he’d rejected her charms.
“I worry about you,” he admitted, his voice low.
I pressed my forehead to his, closing my eyes. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine. I’m here. And I’m yours.”
“Of course you’re mine,” he said, the words a vow. “You’re forever mine, as I am yours.”
His lips found mine, gentle at first, then desperate. It was as if he could taste the unspoken goodbye on my breath, and I kissed him back with every ounce of passion and fear I possessed until we broke apart, gasping.
“I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he confessed, the words a raw whisper against my mouth. “The mere idea nearly undid me—”
A pain, sharp and cold as an icy blade, pierced my heart.
“Shush,” I breathed. “I’m all right. We’re all right.”
I pulled back just enough to gaze at him, drinking in his masculine beauty.
I traced the lock of dark hair that fell across his forehead.
I memorized the warmth in his storm-blue eyes, a look reserved only for me.
He was the male feared by entire realms, renowned for his ruthlessness, until he met me.
He had been the most coveted prize, even when bound to the Queen of the Underworld.
And now he was mine. All mine. I could have looked at him forever.
“That look just made my cock so fucking hard,” he murmured.
Lust, hot and urgent, swarmed my veins. I had less than six hours with him, and every second was a grain of sand falling through an hourglass. A painful lump lodged in my throat. If I left, would I ever see him again?
“What’s wrong, little scorpion?” he asked, his thumb tracing a line along my jaw. “You can tell me. You know you can trust me with anything. You don’t have to carry your burdens alone. Let me carry them with you. Trust me to carry you.”
“I just can’t believe someone like you is mine,” I whispered.
If Sy were here, she’d be rolling her eyes, telling me to believe it already and calling me a dummy.
“Someone like me?” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You mean smart, funny, and devastatingly handsome?”
“You’re above average, all right,” I conceded, forcing a playful tone.
He laughed.
“And my cock?” he murmured, his voice a low tease. “Don’t you girls ever compare?”
“I don’t do that,” I said, a flicker of old defensiveness surfacing. “I never liked dick jokes. When I was Little Bob, there was a rumor. They said I had a tiny one and laughed behind my back.”
“You don’t need to worry about that anymore.” He chuckled. “I can testify that you don’t have a cock at all. Just the tightest, hottest cunt.”
The crude words sent a jolt of pure heat through me. Before I knew it, my hands were fumbling with his sweater.
Then I gave up on the fabric and dropped to the buttons of his trousers, my fingers working frantically. I was a go-getter, always had been, and I knew exactly what I wanted.
“And I want to make sure your cock misses me,” I purred, my voice husky.
“How about I make it easy for my woman?” he asked, darkly amused laughter dancing in his eyes at my impatience.
He snapped his fingers. In an instant, our clothes were gone.
I was straddling him, the thick tip of his cock pressing insistently against my heat.
I fought the immediate, primal urge to rub myself along his length and guide him inside.
I needed to feel him penetrate my molten core, over and over.
But I held back. I wanted my man to take the lead. I wanted him to serve me first.
There was a reason why a slow burn lasted longer, and with so little time left, though he didn’t know that, I wanted to savor every second, to memorize the map of him.
He watched me, a knowing smirk playing on his lips before he lowered his head.
His mouth traced a path along my jaw, then down the column of my neck, each kiss leaving a trail of shivering pleasure in its wake.
When his lips found the frantic pulse at the base of my throat, I arched into his touch at the sensation, my hands skimming the hard planes of his back, claiming the feel of him as my own personal territory.
“Do I make you tremble, little scorpion?” he purred against my skin.
“Work harder and talk less,” I breathed, needing to keep the tone light, to make our last moments a shield against the dread tightening my chest. I was committing every sensation to memory, stockpiling this touch, this scent, this sound, which would keep me going and make me brave in the coming desolate days.
He let out a low chuckle as he cupped my breast, not gently but not too hard either. Just the way I liked. Then he dipped his head and plucked my tit into his mouth, sucking it so hard that I kicked my legs.
“Fuck!” I gasped.
“Does that feel good, baby?”
“There’s always room for improvement.”
He arched a brow, a challenge sparking in his eyes. “Is that so?”
“You can do it again,” I offered, my voice a breathy concession. “Just like that.”
He twirled his tongue around my nipple, lapping it back and forth before his fangs grazed the sensitive peak. I moaned shamelessly, my fingers tangled in his thick mane, twisting a handful of locks and gripping them to anchor myself. The pleasure made me dizzy.
His lips left my nipple, blazing a trail down my stomach. I knew where this was going, and I looked forward to it. But first, he needed to be fair.
“You forgot to take care of my right boob,” I reminded him. “It’s feeling left out.”
“My bad,” he purred, and squeezed my right boob with just the right pressure. He knew my body’s needs intimately, playing me like a fine-tuned instrument. For a fleeting, wicked moment, I almost wished Sy were here to witness his masterful skill.
His mouth descended on my right nipple, lapping and sucking until I cried out, my back arching, lost entirely to the delight.
“You have no idea how much I want you,” he growled, the words raw with need. “Every fucking second. Even in the middle of a war council, all I could think about was getting you alone. The heirs just wouldn’t quit.”
“They’re afraid,” I said, my fingers tracing the curve of his shoulder. “Everyone is, even if they won’t admit it. We were minutes from losing everything. If Ruin had broken through…”
A muscle pulsed in his taut jaw. “He won’t get through. Not him, not his foul creatures. It will be over my dead body.”
“I don’t want you dead,” I whispered, the truth a sharp ache in my throat. “I can’t bear any more death.”
“Baby, I swear to you—”
“Shush.” I pressed a finger to his lips, stopping the vow I couldn’t let him make. “This moment is ours. Just us. No one else exists.”
“You have me, love,” he vowed. “Every second, I’m yours. Every inch of me.”
A slow smile curved my lips. “Show me.”
And he kissed me again. This kiss was different—a slow burn edged with urgency.
It was both gentle and profound, a language of its own.
I kissed him back with everything I had, pouring passion, love, and unspoken words into it.
He was the air in my lungs, the stars behind my closed eyes.
He pulled me tighter against him, and the kiss reached a fever pitch, our tongues entwining in a primal, claiming dance.