Chapter 70 Rhyland
Rhyland
The hot water washes away the last traces of Zephyria, steam rising around us as I pin Dani against the slick tile wall.
Her legs wrap around my waist, nails digging half-moons into my shoulders as I drive into her.
Each thrust pulls those breathless little moans from her throat that drive me fucking wild.
"Rhy—" My name becomes a broken cry as she shatters around me, her body clenching so tight I see stars. I hold her closer, feeling the telltale quiver that ripples through her thighs, her stomach, her very core. That full-body trembling that only happens when she's completely lost in pleasure.
And then it happens—that peak of pleasure when she falls apart, her release flooding against my cock, my stomach, slick and hot. And fuck, how she lets go—her body surrendering in a way that makes me growl, marking us both with her passion.
Her orgasm triggers mine, and for a moment, there's nothing but Dani and the connection between us.
The shower water can't wash away the memory of her standing defiant against Loki, eyes ablaze with a power older than time itself. Something fundamental shifted between us in Zephyria—something that transcends the prophecy, the bond, everything I thought I understood about us.
When I was drowning in that frozen lake, death's fingers killing me over and over, it wasn't just my life flashing before my eyes—it was her.
Every smile, every laugh, every goddamn stubborn argument.
And then she was there, refusing to let the darkness take me, her determination burning brighter than any divine light.
The way she suffered my pain through our bond and commanded the Zephyrite Stone like she was born to wield its power broke something open inside me. This woman who walked into my life on a prophecy has carved herself into places I didn't know existed within me.
What started as fate has become something I would choose a thousand times over. Something that makes me—a creature who's lived a millenia—finally understand what it means to be truly alive.
I need to feel her against me, around me, with me.
Not just the physical connection, though gods—how I crave that constantly, but this other thing between us—this fragile, unbreakable thing that grows stronger with every battle, every sacrifice, every moment we choose each other despite the universe's bullshit.
I've lived lifetimes, but only now do I understand what it means to love someone beyond reason, beyond self, beyond even immortality.
I feel almost normal again, dressed in low-hanging sweats and a cotton tee that still smells like fabric softener. My hair's still damp as I stretch, and my muscles finally relax after weeks of constant vigilance.
I watch Dani move around the bedroom, the gentle curve of her ass visible through her thin shorts.
The memory of her just moments ago coming undone around my cock—head thrown back, honey-gold eyes nearly black with pleasure, that perfect mouth forming a silent 'O' as those delicious aftershocks quiver through her body—sends fresh heat through my veins.
Every. Fucking. Time. No matter how often I've had her, I'll always want more.
Mine. All fucking mine.
We descend the stairs, and the rich aroma of sizzling meat, roasted chilies, and warm corn tortillas wraps around us like an embrace.
My nostrils flare, catching the distinctive scents of Rosa's legendary chile rellenos—poblano peppers stuffed with queso fresco, battered and fried to golden perfection.
The sharp tang of lime and cilantro cuts through the air, promising her homemade salsa verde isn't far behind.
Dani's stomach releases a growl so fierce it could rival my own territorial snarls.
Her eyes widen, fixating on the kitchen with the intensity of a predator spotting prey.
After weeks of surviving on dried venison, stale bread, and fermented skyr in Zephyria, the promise of Rosa's cooking has her practically vibrating.
"Feed me, or I die," she whispers, clutching my arm with desperate fingers.
She'd begged for food the moment we stumbled through our bedroom door, but one taste of her lips and my hunger for her overrode everything else. I'd backed her against the wall, my hand tangling in her hair, and watched her eyes dilate as food became the furthest thing from her mind.
But now, with her satisfied in one hunger and desperate in another, I guide her toward the kitchen with a protective hand at the small of her back. My woman needs sustenance—I intend to see her plate piled high.
"?Mi ángel precioso!" Rosa's voice rings out the moment we enter. She rushes forward, flour-dusted hands clasped to her chest. "How are you, mi nina? Sit, sit! I have chile rellenos, fresh tortillas, everything you need!"
"Rosa, really, I can—" Dani reaches for a plate, but Rosa swats her hand away.
"Ah-ah! You sit your behind down right now. What kind of welcome would it be if I let the savior of the realms serve herself?"
"I'm perfectly capable of making my own plate," Dani protests, but she's fighting a grin.
"And I'm perfectly capable of ignoring you," Rosa fires back, already piling food high. "Now hush and let me feed you before you waste away to nothing."
"I was only gone a few weeks!"
"A few weeks too many! Look how skinny!"
I can't help the laugh that rumbles up from my chest, watching my fierce little mate get mothered into submission. The sound of their bickering, the smell of home-cooked food, the familiar warmth of our kitchen—it settles something in my soul that's been restless since we left.
At the kitchen island, Erik and Bryn are huddled close, my brother pointing at different dishes with unusual patience. "This is guacamole—mashed avocado with lime and spices."
Bryn examines it with the wary concentration of a warrior facing an unknown enemy. "It's... green."
"Most foods in the mortal realm aren't trying to kill you," Erik assures her, his lips twitching in what might actually be a smile.
"The night is young, silfrhár," Bryn mutters, but she accepts the chip, her mismatched eyes widening in surprise at the taste.
Across from them, Lucian and Seraphina are demolishing a mountain of food with the focus of starving wolves. Despite her ethereal appearance, Seraphina has salsa on her chin and matches Lucian bite for bite.
Lucian glances up, catching my eye. "Well, well, if it isn't Thor Junior and his lightning rod. Nice of you to finally join us. Did you get lost in Dani's pants on the way down?" He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
I arch an eyebrow at my brother. "Better than getting lost in your own ass, which is where your head usually lives."
"Aw, you noticed! I've been doing squats."
"Boys," Rosa warns, wielding her wooden spoon like a weapon. "No fighting at the table."
"We're at the island," Lucian points out, then yelps when the spoon connects with the back of his head.
It's clear Rosa holds a special place in Lucian's heart—she's the only one who can put my smartass brother in his place with nothing but a wooden spoon and a disapproving look.
Hell, even I've seen him bite back his usual shit-talking when she gives him that motherly glare.
For an asshole who takes exactly zero shit from anyone else, watching him cave to our tiny human cook is fucking hilarious.
Dani snorts into her water glass, and the sound makes my chest tighten with contentment. This is what we fought for in Zephyria—these moments, this family, this home. My mate is safe and happy, surrounded by the people we love, even if half of them are idiots.
Especially the idiots.
"And what about my plate?" I ask Rosa, watching her arrange more tortillas for Dani.
Rosa scoffs. "You have hands, sí? The stove is right there."
"Seriously?" I glance at Dani, who's too busy inhaling her chile rellenos to show any sympathy.
She pauses long enough to shrug. "Not my fault she likes me better."
"The savior gets special treatment," Rosa says primly. "You? You're just a handsome face with fangs."
If she only knew the weight behind those words.
Being "just a handsome face with fangs" doesn't quite cover it—I'm neck-deep in this savior prophecy shit right alongside my mate.
But I keep that particular bomb to myself, just smirking at Rosa while she fusses over Dani.
Some revelations can wait, especially when they involve ancient prophecies and my newfound status as the son of gods.
Let her think I'm just the muscle for now.
Dani takes another bite and lets out a moan that should be illegal outside our bedroom. My dick grows thick in response, and I have to mentally recite ancient battle tactics to keep it in check.
"Where's the rest of the circus?" Dani asks between bites. "Emily? Sable?" She wrinkles her nose. "That creepy demon?"
"Emily's probably still primping," Lucian drawls, but when he mentions Sable, something flickers across his face—too quick to catch, but enough to set off warning bells.
"And our resident demon? Last I saw, he was practicing his shape-shifting in front of the mirror.
Kept switching between Chris Hemsworth and Robert Downey Jr., muttering something about 'method acting' and 'understanding the character arc. '"
"He does know they're not actually Thor and Iron Man, right?" Dani asks.
"Bold of you to assume he cares about reality," Lucian snorts. "Yesterday he tried to convince me the infinity stones were just cheap knockoffs of your realm stones."
"To be fair," Erik cuts in, carefully showing Bryn how to wrap a tortilla, "he's not entirely wrong about the power comparison."
"Don't encourage him," Lucian groans. "He already tried to organize an Avengers-themed game night. In costume."
Bryn looks between them all, confused. "What's an Avenger?"
The horrified gasp Lucian lets out could rival any soap opera diva. "Oh honey, we need to fix this immediately. Movie marathon. Tonight. No arguments."