49. Raea #2
I run my hand along his left arm where the Okenen octopus tattoo stretches from wrist to shoulder. I trace the tentacles, feeling his warmth beneath my palm.
Goosebumps erupt over his arms. My hands move to his chest, feeling the slow, steady beat of his heart.
When I meet his gaze again, I offer him a wobbly smile.
It’s hard to explain what I feel. I don’t feel like I’m enough.
My mate became a Fae male, strong and beautiful, and there will be no doubt that even more females will probably throw themselves at him.
Ryker tilts my chin up, those sapphire pools so deep and beautiful. “I don’t want anyone but you, Aenai.”
I reach out for that familiar, stubborn wall that has always kept my thoughts private—and find only air.
The barrier hasn't been lowered—it’s been incinerated.
The bridge between us is wide, clear, and pulsing with a frequency I finally understand.
“I’m surprised it took you this long.” His voice echoes in my head, not as a whisper, but as a physical presence that settles deep in my marrow.
A smirk spreads across his lips, his dimple pulling my attention.
He breathes out, a dark, rich laugh that vibrates through the bridge between our minds. Then he smiles, and I suck in a sharp breath. His canines are elongated—sharp, ivory points that look capable of tearing through steel, let alone flesh.
He sees my gaze linger, and his smirk grows. “Scared, Aenai?” His voice purrs in my mind, the mental link so clear it feels like he’s whispering against my ear.
I don’t back away. Instead, I step into the heat of him, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Never,” I whisper. Because while he looks like a nightmare to the rest of the world, to me, he’s the only dream I’ve ever wanted to keep.
He falls to his knees before me, the perfect height for me to trace the tops of his ears, sloped, and then run my fingers through his hair. I still can’t get over how heightened my senses are. That will take some getting used to.
“What is Aenai?” I ask softly, touching him like he might disappear.
When he looks up at me, I fall into the depths of the ocean in his eyes.
I feel the truth of his words before he even speaks them.
“You are the very breath of my soul, Soraea.” The meaning settles within me, burying itself deep into my very bones.
Words fail me, but he doesn’t need them.
Instead, I send every ounce of my love, the truth of what he means to me, down our Bond.
Ry’s head presses against my chest as we breathe together. Neither of us says a word for long minutes. We coexist, allowing ourselves some time to come to terms with this new reality.
It wouldn’t have mattered if I had known from birth.
I wasn’t prepared. I’m not sure that anything could have prepared me.
The foundation of the last twenty-two years hasn't cracked—it’s vanished.
I am a woman built out of starlight and prophecy, living in a body that feels like a stranger’s skin.
The memory of my mother’s garden feels like a story told to someone else.
I never wanted to live in ignorance, but all of this. It’s happened so fast.
Ryker, who’s still on his knees before me, says, “I know exactly who you are, Soraea. Right now you may not feel it, but soon you’ll find your footing. And when all of this gets to be too much, let me take it from you for a while. I can carry this with you, love. I can carry you. So let me.”
His voice, deep and raspy, resonates through me like a balm on my frayed nerves. I squeeze tighter when his hands begin making soothing strokes up the back of my legs. Neither of us moves. We don’t speak. He waits until I’m ready, until the panic clawing at my throat subsides.
When my stomach growls, Ryker snorts. He looks up, and that smirk I love so very much appears. “Hungry?”
I attempt to hide my smile, rolling my eyes. “What are you offering, Prince?”
A wicked grin spreads across his face. I realize a moment too late how that sounded. I slap his shoulder, attempting to pull myself free of his grasp. His strong hands have wrapped around the backs of my thighs.
“Are you going to lick me again, Soraea? I wouldn’t mind.”
Heat floods my cheeks as I look up, muttering that now is not the time. Ryker has the audacity to tell me he’s very hungry too. I cover my mouth, gasping, when he presses his face to the apex of my thighs and inhales. Gods.
“This scent,” he groans into my mind.
The air between us turns thick, saturated with the scent of storm-clouds and starlight.
When he inhales against me, I shudder. My skin feels too tight, my blood too hot, as if my new body is screaming for the friction of his.
This hunger isn't polite. It's an aching need to be consumed by the only soul that is half of mine.
A whimper escapes my lips when he nudges my thighs apart. My head falls back, fingers winding through his hair. “Ry—”
My stomach growls again. Clarity floods my mind, and I remember where we are. The emissary could return, or someone could walk in. Not here.
Ryker sits back with a pout on his face that makes me giggle. I lift a questioning brow. “Fine,” he groans, standing before me. “We find food for you. You can eat while I eat.” He wiggles his brows. “I currently have a singular taste.”
I groan, stomping back up the long hall. “Gods, Ry, you’re incorrigible.” The strength of this new body is not lost on me. Despite my mental exhaustion, I feel like I could run forever without tiring.
His resounding chuckle follows me out of the hall. Back outside, I was not prepared to find a gateway waiting. Caelus did say there would be one, but I didn't exactly trust him. Not that I have any reason not to.
I pause before it, taking it in with new eyes—new senses. Where the two spaces meet is like an event horizon, folding inward on itself. The magic there is powerful—far beyond what most Fae or Elven could summon.
With Ryker’s hand on my back, we walk through the gateway, finding ourselves back in our rooms in the cavern. There’s a fire lit in the hearth and two plates of food heaping with spiced meats and warm bread.
Behind us, the gateway closes, disappearing like it had never been there.
“Perfect,” Ryker says, grabbing one of the plates and shoving it toward me with a smirk that says he's still thinking about what he'd rather be eating. “Eat, Soraea. I need you at full strength for what I have planned later.”
I take a defiant bite of the spiced meat, narrowing my eyes. “Is that a threat, Prince?”
He leans in, his sharp canines catching the firelight as he whispers against my ear. “No, love. It's a promise. Now finish your bread before I decide I'm too hungry to wait.”