Chapter 16 #2
He thrust between my legs. His arm tightened around my waist, pulling me flush against him with each stroke. His mouth was at my ear, my neck, the curve of my shoulder.
I looked down and the sight nearly undid me—his forearm banded across my stomach, his pale fingers splayed against my bare skin. The contrast of him against me, the possessive lock of his arm holding me in place while his hips drove forward—god.
"Nobody touches you." Thrust. His cock slid through drenched, aching flesh, the head of him pressing against my clit with each stroke, and I whimpered.
"Nobody makes you kneel." Another thrust, harder. I pressed back into him, meeting his rhythm, grinding against the thick drag of him, and his breath shattered against my neck. His grip tightened. His hips drove forward again, and the growl that tore from his throat was pure possession.
"You're mine, Tess. Every part of you. Every—fucking—inch—"
His voice cracked. His rhythm stuttered. The shadows around us contracted sharply, and I felt him come—the hot pulse of it between my thighs, against my skin, his whole body shuddering against my back.
The sound he made was guttural. Everything released—the fury, the helplessness of watching, the terror of almost losing control.
All of it channeled into this. Into the claiming press of his body against mine. Into the shadows that pulsed and rippled around us in rhythm with his heartbeat.
We stayed like that. Breathing.
The feral edge bled out of him slowly. His grip on my waist loosened from bruising to holding. His mouth softened against my neck—lips dragging slow and warm over my pulse point, my shoulder, the curve behind my ear.
He pulled my shirt down gently. Reached around me to fix my pants, his fingers careful now where they'd been frantic before. Then he turned me around, and I leaned back against the tree and looked up at him.
The silver was back in his eyes. The shadows still wrapped around us, but they'd gone soft.
"I'm here," I whispered.
He pressed his forehead to mine. His hands cradled my face—the same gesture as before, but transformed. Gentle. His thumbs traced my cheekbones like he was memorizing them.
"A rúnsearc." The word came out rough and quiet. "If he ever touches you again—"
"I know." I turned my head, pressed a kiss to his palm. "I know."
The violence and the tenderness—they came from the same place in him. The same fierce, desperate need to hold on. And I wasn't afraid of either one.
Ciaran's hands moved with quiet purpose—tugging my pants up over my hips, fastening the button, smoothing my shirt down where it had bunched. His fingers were steady now. Careful. The same hands that had pinned me against this tree minutes ago were straightening my collar like it mattered.
I watched his face while he worked. The silver in his eyes had gone calm.
"My underwear is gone," I said.
His mouth twitched. "Destroyed."
"Those were my good ones."
"I'll remember that." He didn't sound sorry. He sounded like he was filing it away for future reference, which was somehow worse. Or better. I hadn't decided.
He brushed a leaf from my hair, his thumb lingering at my temple. Started to step back.
I caught his hand.
"Hi," I said softly.
The corner of his mouth lifted. "Hi."
"I missed you." The words came out easier than I expected. Simple. True.
His fingers tightened around mine. Just for a second. Then he pulled me forward, wrapped his arms around me, and held on.
I pressed my face against his chest and breathed him in. His chin came to rest on top of my head, and I felt the tension in his shoulders ease.
"I'm glad you're here," I whispered into his shirt.
His arms tightened. "I'm not going anywhere."
We stood like that for a long moment. The forest quiet around us. Just us.
When he finally pulled back, his hand found mine and held it.
We started walking. Not toward the Guild—toward the Library. Our fingers stayed laced together, and the silence between us didn't need filling.
I walked with him. Felt the warmth of his palm against mine. Noticed the way he matched his stride to mine without thinking about it. The way the shadows moved around us.
"You've been gone lately," I said. Not an accusation. Just... something I needed to say out loud.
He was quiet for a beat. Two. His thumb brushed across my knuckles. Then, "I've been working."
"Working."
"My shadows. Contacts—people who owe me favors, or fear me enough to talk." A pause. "Both, usually."
I glanced at him. He looked like something carved from storm clouds.
I stopped walking.
He stopped with me. His hand stayed in mine, but I felt his attention sharpen—like he was bracing for me to pull away.
"You've been gathering intelligence," I said slowly.
Not a question. A realization landing with weight. Because of course he had been. Of course.
All those disappearances. The way he'd show up knowing things he shouldn't. The cryptic warnings. The sense that he was always three steps ahead—not because he was guessing, but because he knew.
He wasn't drifting in and out of my life.
He was operating.
"I have ears in places no one else can reach." His voice was matter-of-fact. "The shadows go where I send them. And the people I know—they don't answer to the Guild. Or the Omnium. Or anyone's council."
I stared at him. Really looked.
The careful way he moved through spaces. The way people—Supes, especially—gave him a wide berth. The deference I'd mistaken for fear of his power, when maybe it was something else entirely. Respect. Or debt.
"How long have you been doing this?" I asked.
His expression didn't change. "A long time."
"And you never—" I stopped. Shook my head. Of course he hadn't told me. Why would he? We'd barely known each other when this all started. And even now... he was still deciding how much to let me see.
But he was here. Holding my hand. Telling me now.
That had to mean something.
"What have you heard?"
His jaw tightened. "The knowledge that was stolen from the Library—the Concordance Matrix research. It's not sitting in someone's vault collecting dust."
My stomach dropped. "Someone's using it."
"Experimenting. Bond magic—severing, manipulating, testing limits." He said it like he was reporting facts, but his voice had gone hard underneath. "Whispers only. Nothing confirmed. But the whispers are getting louder, and they're coming from more than one direction."
I let that settle. The Concordance Matrix. A spell designed to sever bonds—dragon bonds, mate bonds, any magical connection between souls. And someone had the research. Someone was playing with it.
"That's why Lord Malrec wanting those incidents buried matters," I said slowly. "If bond magic is being experimented with and he's pushing to classify everything as isolated—"
"Then no one connects the threads." Ciaran's eyes found mine. "And whoever is doing this keeps working in the dark."
We walked in silence for a moment. The Library loomed ahead, its luminescent stone catching the moonlight, towers rising against the sky. But my thoughts were tangled in something much darker.
"Tess." Ciaran's hand caught my elbow, and I stopped. He turned me to face him.
"What Malrec did to you tonight wasn't politics. It wasn't posturing." His voice was low. "His magic is Sovereign Presence. You felt its power earlier. For him to target a bonded rider is an act of aggression. He was testing your limits. Seeing what you'd tolerate. Seeing if anyone would stop him."
"I stopped him," I said. "My magic. Thalon and I—he felt it and backed off."
Ciaran's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. Acknowledgment. But not relief.
"You did," he said. "This time." His thumb pressed against the inside of my elbow—my pulse point. "He'll try again. Not the same way. He's too smart for that. But he'll try."
I held his gaze. The silver was steady, and underneath it I could feel the weight of centuries of knowing exactly how dangerous people like Lord Malrec were.
"I hear you," I said. And I meant it.
He walked me to the Library doors. Stayed until I was inside, until the warm hum of the building's magic wrapped around me. I felt his shadows linger for a moment at my back—a last touch—and then they were gone.
I stood in the entrance hall. The Library pulsed gently around me, and I should have felt safe. I did feel safe.
But something was nagging.
Lord Malrec's words. The way he'd said them.
And Ciaran's intel—bond magic being tested, experimented with, the Concordance Matrix research in someone's hands—
I pressed my back against the Library wall and closed my eyes. The building hummed beneath my shoulder blades. But the warmth couldn't reach the cold thing coiling in my chest.
Whatever was coming, it wasn't going to wait for me to be ready.