6. Six
Six
Nova took the stairs to the upper level two at a time and jogged along the gallery to the chamber she and Callan had once shared.
Her skin tingled, sensitive and stretched too tight, knowing, after so long, he was near.
Following a brief knock, she eased the door open to find the room empty, though the rumpled furs confirmed the bed had been slept in.
Tossing her bag and weapons onto the sofa, she took off back toward the stairs, nearly colliding with a male servant.
Though he balanced a heavy tray of food in his arms, he still managed to shrink back and avoid touching her.
When asked if he knew where she could find Callan, he averted his eyes and directed her to the stables.
The air outside was still and quiet, save for birdsong. Thin wisps of gray smoke curled out of the chimneys crowning the small cabins surrounding the Estate. A gust of frigid wind ripped at Nova’s cloak as she hastened along the laneways toward the barn.
Rushing across the threshold, she stopped short in the entryway.
Halfway down the long row of stalls, Callan stood lifting an armful of hay over the rail of Shade’s pen.
He laid a gentle hand flat on her horse’s muzzle, murmuring softly to the creature as it nibbled at the golden straw.
Callan’s oldest friend, Arik, had brought Shade back to Nivali, offering to train her himself.
Swift and strong, the horse had served Nova well on the journey to confront Idrian’s forces several months past, but she remained skittish and unpredictable.
Shade tossed her head and nickered, expelling a puff of steam in the cold air, and Callan spun around.
His long strides ate up the distance between them, as if drawn to Nova by an invisible pull.
She twined her arms around his neck, her face buried in his chest as he crushed her against him, stroking her hair.
She lifted her face to his, and their mouths joined in a kiss, soft and short-lived, their lips more inclined to smile.
Callan broke the kiss but kept his forehead pressed to hers, arms unwilling to release his hold on her.
“Happy as I am to see you, and, believe me, I am very happy, I thought I was to meet you in Silvergard in a few days’ time.”
Nova buried her fingers in the dark hair at the nape of his neck, then ran them down to the end of one of his braids. As was the custom in Nivali, he had let his hair grow, and it fell past his shoulders.
“I had a change of plans.” She grinned like a fool.
“Then the gods have smiled on me.”
Callan released her, lifting his hands to brush his thumbs over her cheeks as if in disbelief that she actually stood before him.
He pulled her close once more and kissed her again, deeper this time, his tongue joining with hers, the scrape of his beard rough against her skin.
She went slack in his arms, wanting nothing more than to be devoured by him, but, after a moment, she broke away.
“Have you missed me?” she asked, her tender heart hammering within her chest. “I thought—” Nova paused, briefly considering keeping her thought to herself. “I thought perhaps you’d tired of me.”
Callan let out a dry laugh. “All these months, I’ve hardly thought of anything but you. Whether in my waking hours or while I slept, you have been on my mind without end. The softness of your skin . . . the sweet taste of you on my tongue.”
His words carried a promise of pleasure, punctuated by kisses trailing from her temple to her lips, and she pressed her body against his. Callan stilled at voices approaching. Taking her by the hand, he opened a nearby door and slipped through it, pulling her into the room behind him.
The space was dim, lit by pale sunlight filtering through thin cracks in the wood-plank walls. A thick bed of straw covered the floor, a stack piled high in the far corner of the small room, dust motes winking like fireflies as they floated through the shafts of light.
Nova leaned back against the wall and gripped Callan’s shirt, pulling him against her once again.
The solid weight of him anchored her to the spot, tethering her to the present moment.
Her eyes fell shut, and she inhaled the delicious scent of him—crisp like fresh snow—as a rumble of male voices passed directly outside the door.
Callan dipped his head and swiped his tongue wickedly along the column of her throat, pulling a moan from her lips before she could clap a hand over her mouth.
She swatted him playfully with the other.
“Behave,” she whispered. “You wouldn’t want anyone to know you’re with a Silvergardian, now, would you?”
Though her tone was playful, her words carried weight. She was beloved by her own folk in the Lunar Court, but she would never forget how the folk of Nivali had welcomed her on her first visit to the Winter Court: with startled gasps and steel glinting in the firelight.
“Don’t tempt me,” Callan cautioned, his voice low. Rough. “I’ll have you no matter who is listening.”
A shiver of arousal rippled through her, halting her breath. Callan tilted his head, a faint smile lifting one side of his mouth, eyes trained on the thump of her pulse at her throat.
“Does that excite you?” He lowered his face, turning his head slowly from side to side, barely brushing his lips against hers. “The thought of me taking you while others can hear?”
“Perhaps not the audience,” she breathed. “But you claiming me . . .”
Callan froze. She let the word—and its significance—hang in the air between them.
“Tell me, love.” He released a shaky breath. “What do you know about claiming?” His heart drummed against her chest through his tunic, and the swell of his cock pressed against her abdomen.
“A bit.” She swallowed. “I studied it.”
“Of course you did. I’d expect nothing less from that remarkable mind of yours.” He flashed an affectionate smile before a crease formed between his brows. “And what did your books tell you?”
“I believe there are verbal and physical requirements.” Nova rolled her hips against his erection. She was being coy; she’d discovered that in order to claim a bond, it was customary to swear an oath to one’s mate, followed by coupling.
Callan’s eyes fell shut, and he clenched his jaw, drawing a deep breath in through his nose before schooling his features into a serious expression.
“Do you understand what that would mean? If I claim you—” His breath caught, the prospect clearly an exciting one. “I will be bonded to you for the rest of my days.”
“I understand,” she said.
He cupped her face gently with one hand. “Are you certain you want that? Are you certain you want me?” His dark eyes scanned hers, as if searching for any flicker of doubt.
“I’ve never been more certain of anything. Are you cer—”
“Yes. Even if you never claim the bond, Nova,” Callan nodded soberly. “I want this. I want you.”
“What would happen? If I never claimed it?”
“It would be . . .” Callan’s gaze fell to her mouth, then her chest, rising and falling with short, quick breaths. “Unpleasant. But it’s no matter.”
Callan was no more capable of lying than any Fae, but Nova knew he was skirting the truth. She’d researched the subject of mating bonds extensively. If Callan claimed the bond and she never reciprocated, it would be incredibly painful, emotionally and physically.
His eyes found hers once again, a hopeful smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Tell me you want me, love, and I’ll swear my oath to you this very moment.”
Nova nodded eagerly. “Yes. I want you, Callan.” Her ridiculous grin was back.
Callan’s smile vanished, his other hand sliding up her neck until he cradled her face in both hands.
When he spoke, his voice was no longer a hushed murmur.
His words rang out in the enclosed space, loud and clear, unconcerned with the proximity of the males collecting their horses on the other side of the flimsy door.
“I claim you, Nova Elsever, as my bonded mate. I vow to be your shield and your blade. To worship you and protect you. But, above all else, I vow to love you for all the days of my life.”
A pleasant warmth spread through her body as he pressed his lips to hers, sealing his oath. Then, his fingers found the clasp of her cloak, and the heavy fabric slipped from her shoulders, pooling in the straw at her feet.
Callan pulled away and rubbed his thumb over the hollow below her bottom lip before taking a step back. Nova cursed the small distance separating them, skin hot, her veins suddenly flooded with desperate need for him.
He wore a serious expression as he tugged at each finger of his leather gloves, removing them and dropping them to the floor.
“Now, love, turn and face the wall.”
Her breath hitched. Eagerly following his instructions, she turned from him, anticipation tingling in her lips and the tips of her fingers.
The heat of his body enveloped her as he stepped forward to stand directly behind her.
Taking her hands gently by the wrists, he raised her arms over her head and laid her palms flat on the wall.
A contented sigh escaped her as he nested his chest to her back, nuzzling his nose below her ear.
She allowed him to position her further, leaning her forward until her cheek rested against the wall as well.
His hands glided down her sides, reaching in front of her and deftly undoing the laces of her breeches.
Then, he shoved them down to her knees and backed away, his warmth abandoning her, leaving her exposed.
Cold air danced over the surface of her skin, and she flushed with the thrill of not being able to see him.
Of not knowing what he planned to do. Behind her, Callan sucked in a breath through his teeth.
An instant later, his warm hands were on her, sweeping smoothly over her ass and the backs of her thighs.
Then they were gone. Nova pressed her hips back, seeking heat. Seeking friction.
“Don’t—” Callan’s command filled the space, sharp and sudden, and Nova stilled. She heard him swallow hard in the heavy silence that followed. “Don’t move,” he finished, voice tight. Restrained.
“All this time,” he continued, words measured, “I’ve fought to keep my mind occupied. Only now, with you spread before me, do I see how starved I’ve been.”
A solid thud. His knees hitting the straw-covered floor.
“You’re mine, aren’t you, Nova?” Callan asked, his breath deliciously close and hot on her skin as his lips ghosted along the back of her left thigh. His fingers curled at her hips, gripping her firmly.
“Yes,” she answered, her voice little more than a moan. “Only yours.”
“And I cherish what’s mine.”
Not a question. A statement of fact. A promise followed by a long, slow lick up the back of her leg before his teeth grazed her ass.
“Yes,” she gasped, instinctively arching her back to open herself to him.
“I worship what’s mine.”
Another infallible truth. Another promise. Another torturous lick along the opposite thigh.
“Yes. Yes.” Nova’s moan turned into a whine at his tongue—so close and yet infuriatingly far from where she wanted him most. Gods, she was already drenched for him.
“I have been aching to worship you for months.”
His mouth was on her then, his skilled tongue sending waves of pleasure skittering down her limbs like white-hot bolts of lightning and setting her skin on fire.
Nova cried out, not caring who might hear, as if the entire world outside the small straw-filled room had fallen away entirely.
Nothing existed but the two of them. She was all sensation.
His mouth on her clit. His fingers clinging to her hips.
The rough scrape of the raw wood planks against her cheek and the palms of her hands.
Nova came quickly, her release all-consuming and overwhelming in its intensity. It left her panting, her body slack as she leaned forward, bracing herself against the wall. She whimpered as her core clenched around nothing, desperate to have him inside her.
Callan was on his feet in a heartbeat, the shuffling sound of him undoing his laces followed by the weight of his hard cock against her ass before he slid himself between her thighs, slick with her desire.
He curled over her and reached inside her shirt, loosening her stays enough to grant him access to her breasts and taking one in his hand.
Holding her tightly against him with one arm, he buried his nose in her hair and breathed her in before running his tongue along her throat.
“I want everyone you cross paths with to scent me on you. I want everyone you meet to know that I’m yours and you’re mine. That we belong to one another.”
She pressed her ass against his hips, and Callan let out a low groan.
“I need you,” she purred, the pure want in her voice taking her by surprise. “Now.”
She twisted her neck to bring her face close to his. Their lips joined at once, frenzied and inelegant, tongues seeking and teeth nipping.
“My beautiful mate,” Callan growled against her mouth, his cock sliding between her thighs, the head rubbing against her clit.
“Take me, Callan. Make me yours.” What started as a command ended in a plea.
Needing no further urging, Callan nudged her feet wider and guided himself inside her.
Nova cried out once more, reveling in the satisfying feeling of fullness, the perfect fit of their bodies.
She arched her back, and Callan swallowed a moan as he pulled out and plunged in again, settling deeper.
She reached a hand behind her to grip his hip, fingernails grazing his skin as she pulled him toward her, hungrily meeting every thrust of his cock.
Sweat beaded on her skin as the exertion of their joining bodies heated the small room.
Callan wrapped his other arm around her chest, crushing her to him, as if he could indeed make them one, his breath ragged and desperate in her ear.
Pleasure pooled in her core, and she surrendered herself to another climax building.
Soon, Callan’s body tensed against hers.
She met his hips again, grinding into him, and her body shuddered as Callan finished inside her.
He dropped his forehead to rest against her shoulder, their sweat mingling as their breathing slowed. When he lifted his head a moment later, Nova turned her face toward him. Callan traced his fingers along her jaw, his gold-flecked eyes alight like she had never seen before.