Chapter 45 #2
“He’ll keep his word,” was all she said. She didn’t seem to be concerned, so neither would he. With everyone accounted for and the mana stones secured, he shifted his focus back to cheering her up. He scooped her into his arms, making her yelp in surprise.
“Hey!”
“Time to go back to our cabin,” he whispered. “And I think I’d like to carry my mate over the threshold.”
She melted into his arms again and inhaled deeply, rubbing her cheek on his chest with a sigh. “I love you,” she said softly. “You know that, right?”
“I do. Though I’d be lying if I didn’t fear the day I wake up and find it was all a dream.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and opened the door with a creak, then set her on the edge of the bed.
“That’s just how much I love you. You’re my fairy tale princess.
Better than that, even. You don’t wait around to be rescued.
You would insult a knight for having shining armor.
And if a dragon tried to abduct you, you’d shift and slip out of its grasp.
You are so, so much more than a princess to me. ”
The last words seemed to strike her in the heart. Her bottom lip worried for a moment before she hid her face in her hands.
“No, I’m not,” she murmured. “I’m not, I’ll never be anything more than a princess.”
While most children could only dream of being a prince or a princess, he knew what she meant. Her heart longed for adventure, for endless nights charting the stars—and all he wanted to do was steal her away from the palace to sail the seas together and declare this cabin their home.
A quiet sniff from Anya pulled him from his scheming.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he soothed. He gently lowered her hands, subconsciously stroking a thumb over her soft cheek.
“Yes, you are. You’re my mate, my pack, my partner…
you’re everything, Anya. And I know you’re worried about how I’ll handle all the changes that come with the palace. But I’m ready for it all, I promise.”
The ship creaked around them, punctuated by the gentle slap of waves against the hull.
“You can’t promise that,” she whispered.
He took her hand in his and held her gaze.
“Anya, there are a lot of things I can’t promise you.
I can’t promise that I won’t be a fool; but I’ll be your lovestruck fool.
I can’t promise that I won’t have bad days—that the thorns in my mind will never take a hold.
But with you by my side, I know I can conquer it every day for the rest of my life.
That’s what I can promise you. I can promise you forever.
I promise you my heart, my love, my undying loyalty.
I promise to make adventure happen wherever we are.
We’ll spar in those gilded halls, and run in the moonlight on Eteross’s shores.
We’ll stargaze on the rooftop and eat mulberry pie at midnight. ”
“I love you,” she whispered against his lips. “I love you, I love you. I promise to love you forever, no matter what happens.”
He wasn’t sure what she thought would happen, but he couldn’t bring himself to question her in this moment. His heart was bursting with love, and he wanted to express it to her in their unspoken language.
She sank her claws into his back as they kissed, her soft lips fitting perfectly between his.
Little tastes of her teased his tongue, so sweet and so full of her in a way he couldn’t describe.
He invited her deeper with a spread of his lips, and she accepted readily, gently sweeping her tongue over his fangs, then his tongue.
She fingered through his hair, each stroke gliding behind his ears, where she rubbed her fingers hard against his skin, leaving a delicious trail of her scent he never wanted to wash off.
Maybe it was a result of having a Lycanian mate, or perhaps physical touch was simply his love language, but he swore every touch, every sound was more intense than ever before.
He could feel her heartbeat where his fingers rested on her back, the subtle flex of her thighs down to her toes as he pressed himself against her, every undulation of her fingers on his head, down his neck, cascading over his chest as she freed him of his shirt and vest.
But strongest of all, he felt a pull between their chests. No, below their chests, deeper than that, like a spring breeze in his lungs, rushing in and out in perfect time with his own breath. Beyond that was an ethereal feeling, something he couldn’t touch or see, but he knew it was there.
As he slowly worked the threads of her bodice, he found his hands rising and falling with her breath in that same tempo. Fast, shallow, heated, lustful breaths that held so much passion he nearly succumbed right then and there.
Anya had him down to his undershorts by the time he loosed the final tie, revealing her body in nothing but a white lacy slip.
It was loose and flowing, skimming over the rise of her hips and the peaks of her breasts like it was woven together with thread made of the thinnest primrose petals, and a single touch would dissolve it.
He couldn’t resist unwinding her hair from its bun, guiding it down her collarbone and shoulders in loose blonde curls.
She whimpered as he traced his fingers over the fang marks in her neck.
Those two simple dots were a beautiful promise embedded in her skin, and he hoped she would feel how much he loved her every time she looked at them.
Even now she was clinging to him almost desperately, like his love for her would vanish into the fog of the sea.
But that would never happen. He would tell her and show her every day for the rest of their lives.
“I’m right here, love,” he murmured, “I’m not going anywhere.”