Lielit
I felt like an elephant, but the way he looked at me was as if I were a supermodel. He lifted my legs and thrust harder, deeper, slapping his pelvis against my arse until I felt his knot.
Do it, Bouda urged.
Only she knew how badly I wanted to claw the other women’s eyes out of their sockets at the birthing classes. It didn’t help my breathing technique until I visualised the violence. Blaidd didn’t acknowledge anyone in the class—not even the woman who ran it.
I lifted my hands, and he glanced at me before swooping down. His mouth closed around my nipple, and I gasped. The dual sensations made me forget my mission. His long, deep strokes made me gush, and I heard it when he ground his knot against me.
A wet mess.
Focus, Bouda snapped at me.
That’s when I felt my teeth extend.
I tugged on his hair with a grunt.
When he glanced up, my nipple slipped from his mouth, but his jaw hung open, his eyes so wide it was almost comical.
You two deserve each other, Bouda muttered.
He scrambled to plant his hands higher, presenting his neck to me. I released his hair and gripped his shoulder. There was no hesitation. I sank my teeth into his neck, clenching down as his dick jerked inside me.
His neck locked into place. I don’t think I could have released him if I tried. His scent flooded my senses, overwhelming in its intensity.
Woody. Fragrant. Citrus.
All three notes now felt like home.
The metallic tang of his blood slicked my lips, and I tightened my grip on his neck with a low growl.
My eyes fluttered as I saw Fenrir—trapped in darkness. Anger had festered into wrath after years of captivity. The death of a god before his death. Then silence. And then eternal darkness. So much of it that it would have broken another being. Blaidd and Fenrir were survivors.
As the images flashed through me, my chest tightened—then a burst of energy merged with Blaidd.
Blaidd.
I felt him.
His stubbornness. His arrogance.
Then his love—for the twins. For me.
Then fear.
I pressed deeper as the merge began to lock—fear of loss.
Of us.
I gently licked his neck.
I suppose, in his own way, he’d tried. Tried to blackmail me into obedience instead of asking me out on a date—and then I pepper-sprayed him.
The bond snapped fully into place, pulsing softly between us. I loosened my grip on his neck as Bouda stretched lazily inside me. I was studying the marks I’d left when he lifted his head.
Oh, Bouda said.
Oh, indeed.
I cradled his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath my thumb as I brushed away the tear on his cheek.
His stomach pressed against my belly, and one—or both—of the babies chose that moment to stretch. His eyes slid closed as he leaned into my touch.
He didn’t look like a ferocious beast.
He looked like a wounded man.
“Destiny,” he whispered before his lips curled and his eyes snapped open.
He moved over me and kissed me, licking his blood off my lips before plunging his tongue into my mouth.
It wasn't long before he rolled me to my side to continue what he finished. Only this time, I could appreciate what Bouda said about sex after the bond. I wished I’d bitten him sooner.
?
?
?
He left me propped up and surrounded by a sea of pillows—every pregnant woman’s lifeline at this stage. I could smell the food before I heard him climbing the stairs. I set my book on the nightstand and waited for my breakfast in bed.
He kicked the door open and sauntered in.
I shook my head at the sight of skin-tight boxers and nothing else.
I was too busy ogling him to notice what was on the tray. After setting it down on the bed, he dropped to his knees. I leaned forward, frowning.
“Did you drop something?” I asked, scanning the floor.
He didn’t reply.
His head was bowed, eyes fixed on the dark wooden boards.
That’s when I noticed the pink lily on the tray. Beside it sat a navy velvet box, open, with a large diamond catching the light.
“Oh,” I said quietly, glancing at Blaidd.
He lifted his head, and the look on his face wasn’t smug or possessive.
It was… pained.
“You do look good down there,” I murmured, “but that isn’t necessary.”
“At least he didn’t bring you roses,” Bouda chuckled.
I couldn’t help teasing him.
“Wasn’t marriage part of the clause when I left the island?”
He winced—but he reached for my hand anyway. I held it out, and he gripped it, brushing his thumb over my knuckles before lifting it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of my hand.
“Lielit, you’re a queen. My queen. I didn’t know because I’ve never connected with anyone before. You accepted me as I am. Our bond,” he said, earnest and unguarded.
Fenrir is so proud of him, Bouda murmured. So am I.
“Fuck the contract,” he said suddenly. “Will you rule by my side?”
I shook my head, and his face fell.
“I don’t want to rule over anyone. I’m quite comfortable sitting on my knotted throne, though.”
He blinked, clearly processing.
Power never meant control to me. Real power was awareness—and choice.
When he still looked lost, I helped him along. I’m kind like that.
“I’ll marry you if you let me throat-punch you once during every heat.”
His smile spread slowly before he shot upright and grabbed the ring.
“It’s a deal,” he said, sliding it onto my finger.
It stopped halfway.
“When did you buy the ring?” I asked, tugging my hand back to admire the sparkling oval stone.
“Months ago,” he said, frowning as he scratched his head.
My hands and feet were swollen. Most of my shoes were torture.
I glanced at the French toast and fresh berries before reaching for my tea.
At least he tried, Bouda offered.
He was still frowning when he sat on the bed.
He’s learning, I said with a smile.
And I kept the ring on my finger.