26. Rothgar
ROTHGAR
Iforce myself through the morning's work, reviewing reports, tracing supply routes, and studying maps that blur together before my eyes. By the time I set the last parchment aside, I realize I cannot recall a single detail of what I have just read.
The reports from Commander Vhoros lie open before me beside the map of Malakor's decommissioned western spire, every known entrance already under discreet surveillance.
The investigation continues. Every precaution has been taken, yet my thoughts refuse to remain on the work before me. They return instead to Calla—to the hurt she never tried to hide.
She had met my decision with quiet acceptance, and somehow, that had cut deeper than anger ever could have. She believed I would stand beside her. I answered that faith by asking her to stand behind me.
I had mistaken it for discipline. Now, I recognize it for what it was.
Fear.
I leave the study and make for her chambers.
My knock goes unanswered.
Unease follows me across the threshold as I step inside. The bed has been made, her cloak is gone, and the room carries only the fading trace of lavender she always leaves behind. The emptiness hits me with startling force.
I had convinced myself I was protecting her from Malakor, from court politics, from the danger gathering beneath the western spire. Yet none of those fears had truly driven me.
I had been afraid of losing her.
And in trying to keep her safe, I nearly caged the very woman whose courage had changed me.
We were never meant to fight this separately.
Closing my eyes, I reach for the bond between us.
It answers at once.
She is in the human market.
Relief steadies my breathing. I am already moving by the time I open my eyes, following the bond through Galmoleth's lower streets until it leads me to a modest dry-goods stall.
I spot Calla with another woman, and as I draw nearer, she lifts her head. Her companion follows her gaze, takes one look between us, quietly gathers the mugs from the bench, and excuses herself with a promise to keep asking questions later, leaving us alone amid the bustle of the market.
Calla doesn’t move. Neither do I.
There are only a few steps between us, yet after everything that passed, it feels strangely uncertain.
“You left without telling anyone.”
The words come out quieter than I meant them to, and she lowers her gaze.
“I needed to do something useful.”
I let the words linger, hearing what I failed to hear before.
“You did.”
Her eyes lift to mine.
The admission surprises us both.
“I came to apologize.” My voice is quieter now. “I thought protecting you meant carrying this alone. I see now that all I was doing was caging you in.”
Understanding softens her expression.
“I can't investigate lightning-works the way you can,” she says, folding the parchment in her hands. “But I can remember the people we’re trying to save.”
“And I should have understood that from the beginning.” I shake my head. “This was never my investigation alone.”
The tension leaves her in the shape of a small smile as her fingers slip into mine.
“Then we'll finish it together.”
We return to the spire hand in hand, neither of us trying to fill the silence. The distance that had stretched between us is gone, replaced by something quieter and infinitely more dangerous.
The moment the door to my private chambers closes behind us, I pull her toward me.
She comes willingly, her hands already gripping the front of my coat before I can say another word.
I cup her face and kiss her like a starved male, and she answers without hesitation.
The restraint between us dissolves as she presses into me, her fingers finding my hair while my hands tighten at her waist.
I strip us of our clothes with a thought. The moment bare skin meets bare skin, the warmth of her chases away the chill carried in by the storm outside. The one still raging in my chest refuses to yield so easily.
I push her back against the obsidian wall, and she cries out softly at the coldness of the stone. It doesn't deter her. Her fingers thread through my hair before slowing to stroke the curve of my horns.
A soft, wanting sound slips from her lips, shooting straight to my already aching cock. I duck my head, leaving a trail of wet kisses down the slender column of her neck before catching the frantic beat of her pulse between my teeth in a gentle nip.
“Rothgar,” she whispers as her hand glides down my chest, continuing lower until her fingers wrap around my hardness.
I cover her hand with mine, guiding the slow movement for a few measured strokes, marveling at how good it feels. Calla drags her thumb across the tip, spreading the wetness already gathered there.
My eyes drift close for a heartbeat as I lose myself in the perfection that is my wife.
“Fuck, Calla.”
I crash my lips against hers as I thrust into her hand, swallowing her moans while my tongue sweeps into her mouth.
“Hold still for me, love,” I murmur against her lips.
I take both her hands and draw them to my shoulders, giving her something to hold onto before I sink to my knees.
Hooking one of her legs over my shoulder, I press a searing kiss to the inside of her thigh.
“The sight of you,” I sigh, my breath ghosting over her swollen flesh. “Your moans. Tasting you like this.” My gaze lifts to hers. “I enjoy it immensely.”
I lower my head again, my hunger getting the better of me as my mouth returns to her. One hand slides up to cup her breast, my thumb rolling a hardened nipple, while the other slips two fingers inside her.
I flatten my tongue against her, tracing slow, deliberate strokes before quickening the pace. My fingers follow the same relentless rhythm until she's trembling beneath my touch.
“Stay still,” I order when her hips instinctively chase the movement of my hand.
“Please, Rothgar,” she breathes. “I want to come.”
A slow smile tugs at my mouth.
“You will,” I promise. “With my cock inside you.”
I withdraw my fingers just as I feel her walls tightening around them. Calla mewls at the loss, and a dark chuckle rumbles from my chest.
“Rothgar, I need you.”
She begs so beautifully, but she's wrong. It is I who desperately needs her.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, I lift her until her back meets the obsidian wall. She yelps in surprise before instinctively winding her legs around my hips.
“Good girl.”
Calla's answering moan deepens as I ease between her thighs, coating myself in the slick warmth waiting for me.
“I will worship you properly later,” I whisper against her heated skin. “I'll take my time learning every part of you. But right now…” My gaze holds hers. “Right now, I need you fast and hard.”
I enter her with a sharp thrust, and Calla screams my name so loudly that a rough chuckle escapes me.
“Hold onto me,” I rasp as another cry spills from her lips.
My hands tighten on her hips as I drive into her, my thoughts narrowing until nothing exists beyond the sound of Calla's pleasure.
I feel Calla's nails rake down my back before her teeth catch the side of my neck, trying to muffle the cries I keep drawing from her.
“You're so fucking perfect, wife,” I groan against her ear when I feel her tighten around me.
I slide one hand between us, pressing my thumb against her as she mewls, rocking her hips in time with mine.
Calla's head falls back, and I barely manage to weave a spell to cushion the wall behind her before she shatters around me.
My own release follows a breath later. Curse after curse falls from my lips as I bury my face against her neck, holding her close while the world comes back into focus.
I hold her until the last tremor passes through her.
“That was amazing.” I kiss her, already hardening again. “Do you have more in you?”
“Yes.” She smiles. “I want you.”
I will never tire of hearing those words.
Tightening my hold around her, I carry Calla to the bed. I lower her gently onto the mattress, never allowing our bodies to part as I bend over her, bracing myself on either side of her head.
“I’m sorry for how I treated you,” I say, pressing a kiss to her lips before brushing another across her forehead. “I promise I'll never mistake control for protection again.”
Calla's hands cup my face with such tenderness that it steals the air from my lungs.
“You're forgiven,” she whispers.
Slowly, deliberately, I move within her, pouring everything I cannot say into each measured thrust.
I lower my head, drawing one nipple into my mouth while my hand gently kneads the other.
My body is a storm, and Calla is the only one who has ever known how to meet it without fear.
“I love you, Rothgar.”
My body stills. The words steal every coherent thought from my mind.
“Calla?”
I search her face for even the smallest trace of uncertainty, but there is only love looking back at me. I kiss her then, slow and reverent.
“I don't deserve you.” Emotion surges through me as I move with renewed purpose, drawing another cry from her lips until I feel her unravel around me. “I love you, Calla.”
The words leave me with a certainty that takes root deep within my chest. I brace myself on either side of her, holding her gaze as wave after wave of pleasure carries us closer together.
When release finally overtakes me, I hold her as tightly as I dare while the last of the tremors pass through us both.
I brush a strand of hair from her face and rest my forehead against hers.
“We're going to finish this,” I respond, my thumb tracing her cheek. “Together. No more shutting you out. No more carrying the weight alone.”
A tired, radiant smile curves her lips.
“Together,” she echoes.
I kiss her once more, slow and ardent, grateful beyond words that after everything we had nearly lost, she is still here in my arms.