Chapter 18
Amos stood in the doorway of Clover’s room, a bone deep ache weighing him down. They’d found their way back to each other, only to be torn apart again. He couldn’t let her leave without being fully his and without giving her more protection.
He closed the door and crossed the room with measured steps. She sat on the edge of her bed, her blue eyes brilliant against red-rimmed lids. “I have something else to ask you.”
She sniffled. “What?” Her voice was thick from crying.
Amos reached into his vest, pulled out a small box, and dropped to one knee, and opened it to reveal a simple gold band. “Will you marry me?”
Clover gasped and shot to her feet. Her mouth opened, then shut again. “I don’t understand. People can’t know I’m your mate.”
The side of his mouth lifted. “No one would know unless we want them to.” He removed the ring and set the box aside. “When we marry, your magic will strengthen to match mine. You’ll be stronger than any normal fae.”
Her expression fell. “You want to marry me so I’m stronger.”
“No,” he said, standing and stepping into her space. His hand slid to the side of her neck, tightening. “I want to marry you because I can’t survive you leaving without being mine permanently. You being stronger is a bonus.” He brushed his lips over hers. “Say yes.”
Clover cupped his face, her thumbs brushing over his stubble. “Yes.” His heart slammed against his ribs. She said yes. He’d expected her to fight him. Their lips met in a slow, heated kiss as the bond strengthened into something tangible, something binding them more than before.
He broke their kiss and reached into his vest pocket, pulling out a necklace. “I didn’t think you’d want a flashy ring.” He half grinned. “I wasn’t even sure you’d wear it on your finger. You can wear it around your neck if you want.”
Clover reached for the jewelry and threaded the chain through the gold band. Handing it to Amos, she lifted her braid. “Put it on me.”
Amos’ fingers trailed against the soft skin of her neck as he clasped the chain. She turned, and the sight of his ring at her throat snapped what little restraint he had left.
He pounced on her, and she yelped with a laugh that filled every dark part of him. His soul had been gone for years, but she’d given him a part of hers through their bond to anchor him here. The only good left in him was her, and he’d destroy anyone who tried to take her from this world.
“I need you,” he rasped.
She ran her fingers through his hair, her eyes shining. “You have me. You always have.”
Their arms were a flurry of movement as they ripped at each other’s clothes until nothing separated them.
A broken sound escaped Clover as her eyes took in Amos’ arms. The scars had faded significantly after years in Dragon Village, but they would never go away. His back was worse. “Amos,” she said, covering her mouth.
“I’ll show you everything one day, but I don’t want him in this moment with us.”
A single tear escaped Clover’s eye, and he kissed it away, sliding his hand between them until he reached the apex of her thighs.
He lightly ran a finger through her wet folds and pushed it inside her.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured. Her head went back, exposing her throat, and he sucked on the skin where her pulse fluttered.
Their first time had been wild and frenzied, but he wanted to take his time, savoring every inch of her.
He worshipped her breasts with his tongue, relishing the feel of her pebbled skin. “How am I going to be without you again?” he asked, switching to the other side.
She said nothing, but he felt her heart aching in time with his own. His tongue trailed down her skin until he reached her thighs. Removing his finger, Amos pushed his face into her cunt and breathed deeply. “Gods.”
Clover opened her legs wider and moaned when he ran his tongue through her folds. One taste and he was gone. His hands grabbed her thighs and tugged, burying his tongue inside her. He couldn’t control himself and devoured her like he’d been starved.
“Amos,” she moaned, lifting her hips.
He slowed his licks. “I’ve got you, little viper.” Gliding his tongue to her clit, he pushed two fingers inside her. “You’re almost there.”
Amos sucked her clit into his mouth while teasing it with the tip of his tongue. Clover’s hips moved erratically, and her legs tensed. “Please,” she begged, grabbing a fistful of his hair. The slight pain hardened his already-steel cock.
Her orgasm built in his chest, and he worried he might come with her. The sensation was like having an orgasm himself, and it might send him over the edge.
Removing his fingers, he positioned himself between her legs to the sound of her protests, but they only made him need her more. Bracing a hand beside her head, he used the other to line up his cock.
Neither of them spoke as he thrust into her, their moans filling the quiet room. Amos waited, not knowing how long she’d need to adjust again. “Move,” Clover commanded, “or I really will kill you.”
He hung his head and laughed. “You don’t have to flirt with me. I’m already yours.”
Before she could reply, he moved his hips, the feel of her warm cunt pushing him to the edge of blacking out. “How do you feel even better this time?” he choked out.
“You do too.” Their bodies moved faster until her headboard slapped against the wall in sync with the wet sounds of their lovemaking. Thank the gods her family left to give them privacy to say goodbye.
It wasn’t long before they both shattered and her pussy pulsed, milking his cock of every last drop. He would replay his mate’s screams every night while he stroked his cock to thoughts of her. The sound was a beautiful thing, second only to her laugh.
Sweat trickled down Amos’ back, and his slick chest slipped against hers. “Do you think sex without a mate bond is as good as ours?” she asked through heavy breaths.
Amos bit her neck, hopefully leaving a bruise. “You don’t need to be thinking about other people having sex.” She hiked up her shoulders to protect her neck and laughed.
They lay together, catching their breaths, both lost in their own thoughts. “I want to get married with my family and our friends there,” she decided. “I can ask Ruth to gather everyone for a quick ceremony.”
“If that’s what you want, I’ll drag them there myself,” he vowed. “I’d like Alice there too.”
Whatever he had to do to marry her, he would.
Clover didn’t have a beautiful wedding dress or flowers in her hair for their wedding day. She had on a pair of pants, her dusty boots, and a loose button-down she’d borrowed from her sister.
It didn’t bother her, because all she cared about was marrying Amos. The prince stood in front of her in equally dusty books, his everyday clothes, and a hat indent in his hair.
For fae weddings, all you needed was holy oil, a way to pierce the skin, and for royals, both parties entering into the union willingly. Without willingness, the mate bond didn’t solidify, and the royal magic didn’t pass on to the spouse.
Marjorie skipped over to Clover, vibrating with excitement. “I made this for you!” She held out a mangled bouquet of desert roses, tied together with a pale yellow ribbon.
Clover widened her eyes and gasped dramatically. “You made these yourself?” Marjorie nodded. “Grandma Trinity helped me pick the flowers.”
Clover took the bouquet and wrapped her free arm around the little girl. “I love them. They’re beautiful.”
Marjorie beamed and turned shyly to Amos. “Grandma Trinity said you can pin this to your shirt.”
She held out a single desert rose with a tiny yellow bow. Amos knelt down and held his vest taut. “Can you put it on for me? I don’t want to mess it up.”
Marjorie’s little cheeks turned red, and her smile was blinding. “I won’t poke you with the pin,” she promised, as she carefully took the pin out of the ribbon. Her little tongue anchored between her teeth as she concentrated on her task. “You look really nice, Your Grace.”
Amos ruffled her head and stood, glaring at the small crowd over his shoulder. “Who told her to call me that?”
Marjorie giggled. “Sariah!”
Amos lifted a brow at Sariah, who looked at Marjorie in disbelief. “You little traitor.” She darted after the little girl, catching her around the waist to tickle her. “Giving away Hydra secrets already?”
Marjorie squealed, and Clover glanced at Amos. What would their child look like? Would they be silly like Marjorie or serious like their father?
“If you don’t like being called Your Grace, we can always call you Your Highness,” Rainer suggested. “Does that sound more regal to you?”
Amos scowled at his cousin. “Like the Garden Kingdom royals? That’s worse.”
Clover rolled her lips together to keep from laughing. “You don’t like the Garden King and Queen?”
Amos shook his head. “They’re pompous jacka—” He glanced at Marjorie. “—jerks.”
“Sounds fitting.” Rainer grinned. “Your Highness.”
Amos shot his cousin a crude gesture, and Clover lost the battle with her laughter. Her mate whipped his gaze back to her. “What are you laughing at, Your Highness?”
Clover’s laughter faded. “I don’t need a royal title.”
Amos grabbed her hand and yanked her close. “Too bad. After today, you’re officially a royal.”
It hadn’t really hit Clover until now that she’d technically be a princess. She poked him in the side. “Are you done bickering? I’d like to marry you before I leave, if you don’t mind.”
Her joke killed Amos’ good mood and she wanted to yank the words back. They didn’t need a reminder that Rainer would take her back to the Human Kingdom as soon as the ceremony was over. She grabbed his hand, already counting down the days until she could move home.
Amos gazed down at Clover as Sariah ran through their vows. They were generic vows commonly used for fae weddings, but the words didn’t matter to Amos. Nothing they said would accurately depict his love and obsession for the woman standing in front of him.
Not a day had gone by since he met her seven years ago that he hadn’t thought of her, and on the day he broke her heart and watched her leave, he’d been tormented by her absence for years.
Amos had suffered at the hands of his father, wishing for death more times than he could count, and his hands were stained red from the terrible things he’d done in the name of revolution. But with her, none of that mattered. She filled the emptiness that tried to consume him.
Clover wasn’t his other half—she was all of him. Every piece of him existed because of her, and he would spend the rest of his life ensuring she knew that.
His mate poked him in the side again. “Are you paying attention?”
He realized everyone waited for him to say something. “I was busy looking at you. What was the question?” Isabella swooned next to Rainer, who rolled his eyes.
“Do you take her to be your wife?” Sariah deadpanned.
“I do,” he replied, grazing his thumb over the top of her hand.
“Clover, do you take Amos to be your husband?”
Her sweet smile flipped something in his chest. “I do.”
“Are you sure?” Rainer asked, earning himself a whack from his mate.
Sariah pulled out a bottle of holy oil and a small knife. “Hold out your first fingers.” They complied, and she dabbed a bit of oil on each of them, then pricked them with the blade. “Squeeze your finger until a drop of blood comes out, then do the blood exchange.”
A sick part of Amos couldn’t wait to have Clover’s blood on his tongue. Every part of her called to him.
They held their fingers in front of each other’s mouths. Clover flicked her tongue over the pad of Amos’ finger, and he clamped his lips around hers, sucking with a wink.
Her nostrils flared, and she yanked her hand back. “My father is here,” she hissed.
Amos leaned down. “Did you think I wouldn’t savor the last taste of your body I’ll have until we meet again?”
Heat blasted down their bond, and he kissed her, forgetting there were other people in the room.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Sariah announced.