Chapter 33
Forever Mine, Sweet Girl
Hawke Stormblood
The door to our bedroom closes with a soft click, and for the first time since the knights arrived, I feel the tension in my shoulders begin to ease.
Melinda stands at the window, bathed in the silver light of the moon.
Her silhouette is a vision that steals my breath—the gentle curve of her hip, the fall of her hair against her shoulders, the way her fingers trace absently along the glass pane.
"Come to bed, sweet girl," I murmur.
She turns, and the moonlight catches in her honey-brown eyes, turning them to molten gold. A smile curves her lips, but I notice the worry behind it.
She crosses the room, each step graceful and deliberate. "Do you think Fen will be alright? He seemed..."
I shed my jacket, tossing it over the back of a nearby chair. "Fen is strong. They all are. They're going to find their mates. Now, tell me what’s actually bothering you."
She comes to sit on the edge of our bed, her fingers twisting nervously in the sheets.
I join her, taking her hands in mine. "Tell me."
Her eyes meet mine, fear making them shine too brightly. "I don't want to lose you when this baby arrives." Her hand drifts to the slight swell of her belly. "My magick is cursed, Hawke. I'm a ticking time bomb."
Her words strike a chord of fear deep within me, but I fight to keep my expression calm. Since she first told me about the curse that haunts magickal births on Earth, I've tried to convince myself it couldn't possibly touch us here in Avalon.
"My mother warned me my whole life never to have a child with someone I loved," she continues, voice breaking. "She made me promise. And now I've broken that promise."
The anguish in her voice tears at my heart. I cup her face, forcing her to look at me.
"Melinda, listen to me. Earth's magick is tainted, corrupted.
We've seen proof of that. But Avalon's magick flows pure from Yggdrasil itself.
" I press my palm against the slight swell of her belly, feeling the life we've created together.
"This child was conceived here, in Avalon, not on Earth. The curse may have no power here."
"You can't know that," she whispers, fear making her voice tremble. "My magick still causes pain here."
"You're right. I can't know for certain." I take her hands in mine, my grip firm, grounding. "But I know this, I have never backed down from a fight in my life, and I'm not about to start now. Especially not when what's at stake is our family."
A tear slides down her cheek, and I brush it away with my thumb. "I've spent centuries as a Knight of the Round Table. I've faced darkness that would make most men crumble."
"What if it's not enough?"
I pull her against my chest, wrapping my arms around her as if I could shield her from fate itself. "We consult every ancient text and seek wisdom from every wise person across all eight worlds. We leave no stone unturned."
My voice drops to a fierce whisper. "And if all else fails, I will journey to the core of Yggdrasil itself and ask fate to intervene."
I tilt her chin up, making sure she sees the absolute conviction in my eyes. "I refuse to live in fear of what might be. I refuse to let some Earth curse dictate our future. Our child will know both its parents. I swear it on my life, on my crown, on everything I am. I will not leave you."
For a moment, I see a flicker of hope in her eyes—fragile, tentative, but real.
"I was thinking about what Aena said to me," she admits softly. "This baby... if someone took it from me, I can't even imagine what I might do."
My muscles tense involuntarily. "The wrath of a mother is like nothing else."
She meets my gaze directly. "Do you think the sirens did it?"
"Yes. I do. And they likely killed him as well. Or we would've seen or heard something after all this time."
Her eyes widen, horror flickering across her face. "You really think they killed a child."
"I don't know," I answer truthfully. "But whatever happened, Nimue knows. And that is even more reason to be careful with what information we trust her with. She has her own agenda in this war."
She nods slowly, absorbing this. The air between us feels heavy with too many worries, too many threats.
"I don't know what a time bomb is," I say, lightening my tone slightly, "but we are taking this one day at a time, sweet girl. You are not going to lose me. We will find a way."
"Promise me you won't take unnecessary risks," she says, her eyes searching mine.
The request twists something in my chest. It's a promise I cannot make, for there is nothing—no price, no sacrifice—I would not pay to keep her safe. But I won't burden her with that truth now.
Instead, I reach for her, drawing her into the circle of my arms. "Right now, I don't want to think about Fen, or the Enclave, or chimeras, or curses, or any of it."
Her arms snake around my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. "What do you want to think about, Your Majesty?" There's a tentative smile playing at her lips.
"You." I capture her mouth with mine, pouring all my reassurance, all my devotion into the kiss. "Only you."
The kiss deepens, and I lose myself in her.
The softness of her lips, the heat of her tongue, the faint tremble that runs through her body as I press her closer.
My hands roam tenderly, memorizing every curve, before settling on her lower abdomen.
I break the kiss, my breath catching as my palm curves over the small, firm swell there.
"Gods, Melinda," I whisper, my calloused fingers ghosting over her skin like she's made of the most precious glass. "Our child. Our future." My thumb traces the curve tenderly, protectively. "Do you have any idea what this does to me? Seeing you like this, knowing we've created life together?"
Her pupils dilate, and I can feel her heartbeat quicken against my chest. "Tell me," she breathes.
I lower my mouth to her ear, my breath hot against her skin. "It makes me want to worship every inch of you. It makes me want to show you that I'm here. That I'll always be here." My hand presses more firmly against the swell of her belly. "You're not alone in this. You'll never be alone again."
A soft sigh escapes her lips, her body arching toward me, fear giving way to desire.
"You're magnificent," I murmur, my fingers slipping beneath the hem of her gown, tracing the stretched skin of her abdomen. "So perfect."
"Hawke," she gasps, her eyes heavy-lidded. "I need you."
"You have me," I promise against her throat, lifting her into my arms and cradling her body against my chest. The knowledge of our child growing within her fills me with a fierce, protective devotion. "All of me. Forever."
I lay her gently on the sheets, marveling at the way her hair fans out like a halo of dark silk.
When we're finally skin to skin, I pause, hovering above her, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, her eyes dark with desire.
She is divine, a goddess brought to life, and somehow—miraculously—she is mine.
"I love you," I whisper, the words inadequate for the depth of emotion that threatens to drown me. "More than life itself."
She reaches up, cupping my face in her palms. "Show me."
I trail kisses down her throat, across her collarbone, savoring every inch of her with my lips and tongue. Her skin tastes like honey and jasmine, intoxicating and addictive.
"Beautiful," I murmur against her skin. "So perfect."
Melinda arches beneath me, her breath coming in short gasps as I continue my journey downward. My lips brush against the curve of her breast, and she trembles.
"Hawke," she whispers, my name falling between us like a spell. Her fingers tangle in my hair, guiding me where she needs me most.
I look up at her, meeting her gaze as I devour her body, drowning in the sweetness of her.
My muscles coil tight with restraint, jaw clenching as I fight to maintain control.
Her eyes flutter closed, her head tipping back as pleasure overtakes her.
Through our bond, I feel every sensation as if it were my own—a dangerous double-edge that threatens to shatter my composure.
I grip her thighs harder, anchoring myself with the pressure of my fingers against her skin, centuries of a warrior's discipline the only thing keeping me from losing myself completely in her pleasure.
Her hands grip the sheets, knuckles white with tension as she climbs higher. I hold her steady, anchoring her as she crests the wave, her cry of release echoing through our chamber. Her taste on my tongue is heaven.
Before she can fully descend, I move back up her body, claiming her mouth. She tastes herself on my tongue and moans, the sound vibrating through me like a physical touch.
"Now," she demands, her voice husky. "I need you now."
I position myself above her, pausing only to admire the sight of her beneath me—flushed and glowing.
My chest tightens with a raw, visceral ache. Blood roars in my ears, every muscle in my body straining with the need to claim, to protect what's mine.
"Mine," I say, as I join our bodies.
Melinda gasps, her back arching off the bed. "Yours," she agrees, her eyes locked with mine. "Always yours."
I grip her hips, driving into her with powerful, deliberate thrusts that make her gasp with each movement. The sight of her beneath me—surrendered, trusting, mine—feeds something primal in my soul.
"Look at me," I command. When her eyes flutter closed in pleasure, I grasp her chin between my thumb and forefinger. "I said, look at me, sweet girl. I want to see your eyes when you come apart for me."
Her eyes snap open, dark with desire, pupils blown wide. The submission in her gaze only fuels my need to possess her completely.
"That's it," I praise, adjusting our position to drive even deeper. "Take all of me."
I slide one hand down between us to where our bodies join, circling my thumb against her most sensitive spot. Her walls clench around me in response, drawing a savage groan from my throat.
"You're mine," I tell her, the words a declaration, a vow, an incontrovertible truth. "This body…” My hand moves to caress the swell of her belly again. "This child. All mine to protect."
Her back arches as she nears her peak, and I can feel her tightening around me.
The sight of her abandoned to pleasure, carrying my child, sends a molten surge of desire through my veins.
My vision blurs at the edges, heart hammering against my ribs like a war drum.
Each pulse of her body around mine threatens to unravel me completely.
With each thrust, I’m branding her from the inside out, as if I can somehow mark her so deeply that nothing—no curse, no fate, no power in all eight worlds—could tear her from me.
Through our bond, her pleasure crashes into mine. I groan, sweat beading across my brow as I hold her there, prolonging the exquisite tension. My muscles tremble with the effort of restraint, every fiber of my being screaming for release, but I refuse to surrender.
I need her to remember and to feel this when doubts creep in again. I need her to know, bone-deep, that no force will ever keep me from returning to her arms. "Tell me who you belong to," I demand, slowing my movements to a torturous pace.
"You," she gasps, her nails raking down my back. "Gods, Hawke—only you."
"And who does this child belong to?" I press my palm more firmly against the slight roundness of her abdomen.
Her eyes lock with mine, fierce despite her submission. "Us," she answers, a challenge in her voice even as she yields to me. "Our child. Made from both of us."
I reward her answer with a particularly deep thrust that makes her cry out. "Yes," I concede, my control slipping. "Ours. But you—you are mine, Melinda."
She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me impossibly deeper. "Then take what's yours," she challenges, her voice a seductive whisper that shatters the last of my restraint.
I lose myself in her then, driving us both toward completion with relentless determination. My thrusts become harder, faster, more erratic as pleasure builds at the base of my spine. The sounds she makes—half-gasps, half-moans—push me closer to the edge.
I feel her pleasure build in tandem with mine, a rising tide threatening to drown us both. "Now," I command against her ear. "Come for me now."
Her body obeys as if my words themselves hold power over her. She shatters spectacularly, her inner walls pulsing around me as she screams my name. Her release triggers my own, and I drive into her one final time, burying myself to the hilt as I fill her with my seed.
For several heartbeats, I remain perfectly still, savoring the sensation of her body trembling beneath mine, around mine.
"Mine," I murmur against her neck, placing a possessive kiss over the mark I left when I first bonded her. "Forever mine."
She smiles, languid and satisfied, her fingers tracing idle patterns across my chest. "Yours," she agrees, her voice soft with contentment. Through our bond, I feel her pleasure, her love, her sense of completeness that perfectly mirrors my own.
The worry lines that had creased her forehead earlier have smoothed away, replaced by a serene calm that eases something tight in my chest. The jagged edges of her fear have dulled, not gone completely, but manageable now.
It's enough. It has to be enough for tonight.
Tomorrow will bring its own battles, but for now, I've given her this reprieve, this sanctuary in my arms where curses and prophecies cannot reach.
"What are you thinking?" she asks, her voice soft with contentment.
I press a kiss to her temple. "That I'm the luckiest man in all the worlds."
She laughs, the sound light and musical. "Even with chimeras and the Enclave and curses on the loose?"
"Even with all of them." I tug her closer. "Sleep, my love," I say instead, holding her close as her breathing deepens. "I'll be here when you wake."
And I will be—for as long as the universe allows.
But as I lie awake, listening to Melinda's soft breathing, my own doubt creeps in like a shadow. What if the curse is stronger than our bond? What if all my determination, all my love, all my strength is not enough? What if no one can help us?
I press my lips to her forehead, a silent vow in the darkness. If my life is the price for our child's birth, so be it. But I will not go quietly. I will fight with every ounce of power I possess to stay with her, to watch our child grow, to build the family we both deserve.
And if I fail... if the curse claims me despite everything... then at least I will die knowing I have loved and been loved by the most extraordinary woman in all the worlds.
It is enough. It has to be.