Chapter Twenty-One
Legend
The door swings open before I can even reach for it.
Haide stands at the threshold, arms folded and a fucking grin spread on her face. I love to fucking see it. Especially when I know she’s been sleeping with one eye open since our own fucking people tried to attack her seven moons ago, if we’re tracking in giftless time.
They might have been Argent-born, but they still belong to us.
We— I am still their fucking King and she is mine.
They don’t know it yet, but I have their parents in the cellar back in Rathe—the one and only reason I allowed her to walk through the Gateway and back to campus alone.
I might free them one day, but the jury’s still out.
Pushing closer to her, my nostrils flare, and I swipe my bottom lip. “You smell of Fae juice. I take it you met Emmie?”
She steps aside and I kick the door closed, waiting for it to seal and vanish before crowding her again.
“Mmhmm.” She ties her hair back, the little jewels embedded in her temples gleaming when she turns to me.
“You’re lucky I didn’t kill her the moment she knocked on my door.
Smooth, by the way, and brave of her. Sending her to me before I could change my mind about your little ‘ball.’ Not that I still can’t. ”
“But you won’t. You want to walk in there on my arm.”
She remains silent for several seconds as she watches me. Finally, she says, “She smelled like you.”
Her tone isn’t that snappy, bratty, kiss-my-ass-or-don’t she usually uses with me. It’s soft and, dare I say, hesitant.
I love her attitude and crave the way she fights me. But right now the bond pulses wildly in response to her reaction; and I swear the thread between us grows a tiny bit stronger.
“I’m yours, little mate,” I say, the words an unintended whisper.
I wait while she studies me. Maybe this is the moment she caves. That grabs hold of that feeling she must have inside her and refuses to ever let it go.
The only reason my scent was on another woman was because I hand chose the dresses she brought down for Haide. Still, I fucking love her jealousy.
She looks away with a blink. I guess today isn’t the day she gives in. Maybe I was too soft with her the other night and she’s still unsure about it. She enjoys me wild. But where my mate is concerned, I will always reserve a separate part for times that she needs it.
And she needed it then, even if she didn’t realize it.
Haide shrugs, definitely a bit buzzed. “I like her.”
“Shocking,” I mock, grinning in hopes to hide the heavy. “She help you pick a dress for the ball?”
Haide kicks up from the dresser. “She did, but you can’t see it yet.”
“I see.” I push closer and her chest inflates, her eyes not trusting my approach.
So off-balance, my mate.
It’s clear something’s changed between us, but she still refuses to admit it. That’s okay though.
It’s not lost on me that the Royal Gateway spat her out back here, at Rathe U. The place she didn’t want to be instead of her island.
This is your home now, Little Mate. Can you see it?
I sense fire and I spin just as the door reveals itself. I yank the door open, ready to rip someone’s main artery out, when it opens onto Creed.
His hands fly up in surrender, but there is a tension in his expression I don’t fucking like. Last I saw him, he was spewing lies about her, as if he knew what it felt like to want someone so fucking bad you’d tear your own skin off just to feel her closer.
“Brother,” he says, tone flat and expression blank.
I haven’t had a chance to ask him what he told her during their last conversation about magic, but that will fucking come. Soon.
“What do you want?”
His dark brow raises. “Can I not come in?”
I step aside and check the hall. Empty. Good.
“What is it?” I ask, backing up against the door to close it.
He takes in the room, Haide has changed into one of my shirts that hangs right to the top of her knees, and put her hair up in that curl shit that girls do.
Her eyes bounce between my brother and me. “What?” It’s no secret the two of them hate each other, but at least in Haide’s defense, it’s valid.
Creed’s mouth flatlines. “We have another…issue. Vicente needs us immediately.”
Fuck. Not good.
“And he couldn’t come tell me himself?” I grind out. Not trusting my brother when it comes to my time with my mate.
The man’s got a serious issue with her that needs to be dealt with and fast.
Creed shrugs, eyes sliding to Haide. “I was closer, so he probably thought it’d be quicker.”
I don’t give a fuck about what he says, because Haide just bent over to pick a pair of black panties off the floor. Now, all I think about is wearing her hair as a bracelet while I fuck her hard. Matter of fact—what is she wearing under that if she’s holding her panties?
My head tilts. Suddenly I don’t give a fuck about what Vicente has to say. Or that Creed is in the room. All I want is to bury myself in Haide and not come up for fucking weeks.
Before I realize it, I’ve crossed the room and my arms are around her back, locking her in place. Daring her to move and have me carve my fucking name over her forehead. See if that shit matches the color of her dress.
I lower my lips to hers, brushing them way gentler than I want. She wriggles away and my other hand lands on her throat with enough force I have to physically stop myself from not tearing the damn thing out.
Fuck you if you think you’re running from me right now.
I need this. Need her.
She tenses for a moment before her hand sprawls over my chest to push me away, but my tongue laps the outline of her lips, and her body unravels in my hand when she opens for me.
I know she’s close to feeling it. To believing every time I’ve told her she’s my mate.
Told her she’s mine.
I know she’s starting to feel that live wire that’s knotted between us. Now, I just need her to pet it. Fucking use the rope to choke me with it , I couldn’t care.
“Mine.” My lips curve over hers without breaking the kiss.
“For-fucking-ever.” It’s low and intimate, but no doubt Creed is listening.
Good. As much as he’d think this was a show for him, me making a statement and flipping him and his theories the middle finger, the second Haide’s in the room nothing else exists.
No one else exists.
Her fingers crawl up my chest, leaving fire in their wake. These are the moments I want, where her lips meet mine, not in war, not in spite, but in actual fucking surrender. It’s enough to fucking undo me.
I’ve been starving. Literally starving. My power playing tricks on me because it needs her—that is the only way to explain the strange strain on my gift I’ve felt lately.
The bond has been clawing at my insides, at my magic, because it fucking wants her more.
It wants her to acknowledge that she’s mine.
But these moments where she yields, where it feels like she’s marking me back the same way I do her…
Dare a motherfucker to stand between that.
My fingers knead into the plastic things in her hair, holding her in place. She tastes like magic and defiance and mine, mine, mine.
Power crashes through me in waves, raw and vicious, settling in my bones like liquid fire. The bond doesn’t purr—it roars, searching for something it can’t seem to find.
Every instinct I’ve been leashing snaps free at once. I want to bite her throat until she bleeds. I want to pin her down and make her say my name until her voice breaks. I want to mark every inch of her skin so thoroughly that no one else will ever dare touch what belongs to me.
She groans into the kiss and heat waves twist through the cages in my chest.
The kiss turns savage, all teeth and claim, the hunger being satiated. I’ve always secretly dreamed of my mate, wishing to find her for as long as I’ve understood what it meant to have one. No one knows this, but it’s true.
And now she’s here and she’s not just kissing me back—she’s fighting me for control, and fuck—that makes it so much better.
If the Gods gave me a docile doll as a mate, I’d tear her apart within seconds.
They knew I needed this. A fucking warrior.
On the battlefield, in the War Room, and on my fucking dick.
“You guys done?” Creed’s voice has her pulling away just enough to break the kiss.
He’s been doing a great fucking job at pissing me off lately. I turn over my shoulder, enough so he can see a hint of my grin. “You think I won’t fuck her with you in the room?”
Creed scoffs. “I know you would, but the question is, would you share—”
I’m in his face in an instant. “For that,” I whisper, plucking his shirt. “You can watch.”
“Legend,” Creed warns, his tone dipping to one of warning. “You’re going to make it worse.”
I don’t know what he’s talking about and I don’t care.
I defy him by grabbing Haide by the throat and forcing her lips back onto mine. Her hesitation vibrates over my palm, but I force her back against the wall without breaking the kiss. Every lick over her tongue, every moan that escapes.
I catch each one.
“Lege—”
“You gonna tell me no?” My forehead rests on hers, our breathing on some fucked-up collaborative pulse. “Hmm? Like you don’t want it…”
Her eyes turn to slits, the challenge set. Fingers curl around the back of my neck as her thigh finds a place against my hip. “Okay then, Royal. Fuck me—”
I don’t let her finish the sentence. I pick her up from the backs of her thighs, my mouth crushing hers as I lift her body and drop her onto the dresser. Her body is the kind that deserves to be worshipped, but all she’s getting from me tonight is being torn apart.
She chuckles, her back arching as I tear off her shirt while yanking her farther into me. I need her every-fucking-where. It’s too much. As if the mere thought of not having her beneath me is poison.