Chapter 37
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
Araya lay awake, Loren’s heartbeat strong and steady under her ear. The soft morning light crept through the gaps in the heavy curtains, casting streaks of gold across the dark wood furniture.
Sunlight. Real sunlight.
The shadows that had choked Eluneth for more than two decades were thinning at last, no longer fed by the rot and rage that had festered at the heart of the island.
Now, that same darkness lingered at the edges of their room, a shadow curling into a patch of sunlight as if it too had missed the warmth.
This was dara’el as it was meant to be—a guardian, not a curse.
What could it become now that it had found peace with its chosen prince?
Loren stirred, mumbling something too slurred with sleep to be intelligible. His hand traced lazily down her back, pulling her closer. His breath skimmed the scarred tip of her ear, sending a warm flush through her chest.
Alive. Against all odds, they were both alive.
Ilyana had cleared him for careful activity yesterday, delivering her verdict with a pointed look at both of them. Loren had laughed—but Araya had only managed to nod, burying her shaking hands in her skirt.
She had kissed him—chosen him—but there was a vast difference between that and what might come next.
Not because she didn’t want him—but because after everything she’d survived, Araya couldn’t shake the feeling that wanting something so badly always came with a price.
One she might not see until it was too late.
She’d wanted Jaxon too. Desperately—the same way a drowning person clung to driftwood. She’d been certain she could save herself by loving him hard enough, that she could earn safety in his bed and protection by his hands.
The same hands that had carved a tapestry of scars into Loren’s skin.
And now she lay here, curled up in bed beside the male who would have died rather than take her choice away. And that was more terrifying than anything Jaxon had ever done.
Loren’s brow furrowed, sleep-dulled contentment shifting to warm happiness through the bond as he blinked awake, his bright green eyes still soft and blurry with sleep as they met hers.
“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice thick and rough. “What are you thinking about so hard this early?”
“You almost died.” Araya trailed her fingers over his cheek, stroking his jaw. “Don’t do it again.”
Loren caught her hand, a small smile curving his lips as he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I’ll always choose you, ael’sura.”
Araya caught him by the chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. “I mean it, Loren.”
“So do I.” He nipped at her fingers, his smile widening to a grin when she yelped and yanked her hand away. Then, without warning, he rolled them both.
His mouth found hers, swallowing her startled gasp in a playful kiss.
But when she arched into him, chasing more, it deepened in an instant.
Loren groaned, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as his hands skimmed her waist. His hands skimmed her waist, shaking with careful restraint even as his weight settled heavy between her thighs.
“Does this count as light activity?” She gasped, squirming in his grip as he nipped along her jaw, pausing at the hollow of her throat to breathe her in.
“We don’t do anything you don’t want to do,” he murmured, his voice a gravelly rasp against her skin. “That will never change, ael’sura.”
Araya’s fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him back to look him in the eye. “I know,” she whispered, tilting her head to press a kiss to his temple. “I want to. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
Loren pressed his lips to her wrist, his smile soft against her skin. “We stop if it’s too much. For either of us.”
He kissed her again, slower this time. His hand slipped beneath the hem of her nightgown, his fingertips dragging lightly across her thigh, over her hip and the curve of her waist. She gasped as his palm settled just beneath her breast, his thumb grazing the underside and a flash of heat straight to her core.
“Lorendrael,” she hissed, shoving him back. He went willingly, his eyes widening as she sat up just enough to grab the hem of her nightgown and dragged it over her head.
“Goddess,” he murmured, his gaze gliding over her body like a caress. “You’re—Araya—”
A slow, satisfied smile curled Araya’s lips at his reaction. Good. Let him look. Let him see what was his. But not right now. She grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back to her. “Less staring,” she whispered, brushing her lips across his. “More kissing.”
He laughed, his lips crashing back into hers like he couldn’t bear another second apart either. Araya closed her eyes, letting herself just feel in this moment. The bond thrummed quietly between them, a reminder of everything they had survived and everything they had yet to face.
Loren broke the kiss first, resting his forehead against hers. His hands smoothed down her sides, making her shiver as they explored the soft skin stretched over her ribs. But his eyes staring down at her were serious.
“I need you to tell me,” he said, his voice hoarse. “If this is what you want.”
“Yes,” Araya whispered, holding his gaze. “I want this. I want you.”
“Thank the Goddess.” Loren swore, peppering her shoulder with sharp, stinging kisses when she laughed at him. Her breath hitched as he moved lower, teasing her breast with tongue and teeth until she was gasping, her hips bucking of their own accord.
“Loren,” she whimpered, her hands knotting in his hair.
He laughed against her skin, the low rumble turning molten in her center.
He kissed his way down her ribs, tasting her stomach, the curve of her hip, the inside of her thigh.
He paused there, his breath feathering over her sensitive skin as his hands curled around her knees.
Araya’s breath stuttered, her whole body tensing in anticipation as he settled between her legs.
Loren stopped.
He leaned back, searching her face. “Are you—”
“Yes,” she gasped. Her hands twisted in the sheets, desperate to hold onto something. “Yes. Don’t you dare stop—”
He groaned, his grip tightening on her knees.
The first touch of his tongue made her hips jolt, a choked gasp tearing from her lips before she could stop it.
A breath shuddered out of him, half-laugh, half-groan.
He stared up at her, his green eyes burning as he slowly, deliberately licked her again.
Araya bit her lip, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other tangling in his hair.
He was maddeningly gentle—circling, teasing, learning the shape of her pleasure one breath at a time.
Her thighs trembled around him, but he didn’t rush.
Not even when she whimpered, or when her back arched off the bed.
He kept the pace steady, unhurried. Every stroke of his tongue felt like a worship.
This wasn’t just desire. It was reverence.
Her first orgasm took her by surprise, wrenching a cry from her throat. Magic flared in its wake, like lightning racing across her skin in a crackling wave. Power licked over her ribs and down her arms, light gilding her fingers where they gripped the sheets.
Loren held her through it, his hands firm on her hips and his mouth still moving—as if he couldn’t bear to stop tasting her.
Araya cried out, twisting under him as her pleasure built again, faster and hotter this time.
She arched up with a broken cry, riding the edge helplessly until he tipped her over again, another climax crashing through her like a wave shattering against stone.
She half-sobbed, her voice catching on his name as the aftershocks tore through her.
Loren grinned against her skin, pressing soft, reverent kisses to the inside of her thighs, her hipbone, the tender dip just below her navel—each one slower than the last, like he was trying to calm the storm he’d conjured in her.
Her hands found his shoulders, trembling as she dragged her nails down the hard lines of his back.
She tugged, urging him up. But Loren refused to be rushed as he made his way back up her body—lingering at her ribs, tracing the flat plane between her breasts where the bond thrummed softly beneath her skin, and nibbling at the vein where her pulse thundered in the hollow of her throat.
By the time he hovered over her again, her whole body was strung tight with longing, breath catching on the edge of a sob. She stared up at him, his mouth still glistening with her pleasure as his hips pressed between hers, the heavy heat of him making her arch into him, desperate of feel more.
Loren groaned, his head dropping to her shoulder. “Goddess save me,” he said, his voice breaking. He pulled back, just far enough to meet her eyes. “Tell me again.”
“I want you.” Araya’s hands were already at his waist, fumbling with the fabric of his sleeping pants and trying to shove them down with clumsy, shaking hands. “All of you. Now.”
He didn’t ask a third time.
She tasted herself on his tongue as he kissed her again, kicking his legs free of his pants. He braced himself over her on one elbow, the heat of his skin branding her everywhere they touched as he reached between them, notching the head of his cock in her slick heat.
She gasped, her hips jerking slightly. “Loren.”
“I have you, ael’sura,” he rasped. And then he was there—sliding through her wetness with devastating slowness as he pressed into her inch by inch.
Araya’s head fell back against the pillows with a strangled cry.
He was thick—the stretch of him making her nerves spark like lightning.
Her nails dug into his shoulders as she her breath stuttered, trying to process the sensation of being filled with such reverence after only ever knowing what it meant to be taken.
Loren cupped her face, watching every flicker of her expression as he sank the last few inches, burying himself to the hilt. She arched into him with a broken moan, her whole body clenching around him.