Chapter 35
MAE
Asmo refuses to let me go when the healer comes, which makes her job significantly harder, but I don’t care. I can’t stomach the thought of being away from him.
“The wound on your cheek has begun to heal already,” she says with a smile, then glances at the dried blood on my shirt. “Prince, I need to look at her stomach,” the Panthera female says, but he’s silent and unmoving.
Asmo lets me remove his arm from my midsection. I peel my shirt up and hiss as it pulls at the crusted, dried blood.
The healer observes the wound, then hovers a steady hand above it. “I can feel your Fae blood beginning to heal it, but there is another force that is resisting against it.”
“Black magic,” I explain. She quirks an eyebrow.
I pull my shirt up further to show her the scar from Cora’s lightning bolt.
Although the mark has lessened, it’s still there.
“So far, any wound with black magic has taken longer to heal. The one on my stomach was initially from a black magic mark to alter my appearance.”
The healer nods as she considers my words.
“Because of the magic-blocking cuffs and conditions you were kept in, its healing process was significantly delayed. I can heal the stab wound, but the dark sigil will have to heal on its own.” She takes a closer look at my stomach.
“I’ll need to remove all the dirt and debris from the wound before I can heal it.
Otherwise, I’ll just be sealing all of that in, which could make for a nasty infection.
It’s going to hurt,” she says with a nervous look toward Asmo.
“I’ll be okay,” I say reassuringly, more to Asmo than to the healer.
“I’ll just go gather some materials, then.”
Asmo stares straight ahead. His eyes are dark, the fern green only a sliver. I cup his cheek with one hand and force his gaze to mine. “I’m fine,” I whisper.
His jaw clenches in my hand. He opens his mouth to say something, but slams it shut.
“Hey.” I stroke his cheek with my thumb. His gaze returns to mine, but his eyes are glassy now. “I’m okay.”
He nods hastily and looks away from me.
The healer returns with a shiny instrument in her hand with two pointed ends. Great. This is going to be even worse than when the healer had to disinfect the burn from the cambion.
“Ready?” she asks me, shooting another nervous glance toward Asmo.
I nod, and she begins. It doesn’t take long, but it feels like an eternity, every brush of the wound sending shivers of pain through me. She sets the instrument down, then hovers her hand over my stomach. It begins to itch, and the skin knits itself back together.
“All done. You’re officially free to go.” She offers us one last smile, then takes her leave.
Asmo wastes no time. He carries me from the healing center. Just outside the door, a small group of people are whispering back and forth. I smile when I see them. Ivan, Etta, Basil, Holly, and Cally stand in a small group, faces tight with worry.
“Cally!” I exclaim, squirming in Asmo’s arms to be put down. He just holds tighter. “Put me down, Asmo.”
But Cally backs away as she looks at Asmo. “I think maybe you two should have some alone time. We’ll catch up later. Dinner?” she says with a shaky smile, then turns away from us to rejoin the group.
“What was that about?” I ask Asmo. But he doesn’t say a word.
Come to think of it, he hasn’t said a word this entire time.
He heads to the residential quarters with a frenzied pace, not even bothering to turn the knob when he gets to his door.
No, instead, he just fucking barrels through it. It crashes open.
“Asmo!”
He slams it shut behind us and takes me to the bedroom.
His private quarters look identical to mine: rough, uneven, dirt-packed walls, standard bed with red bedspread, worn sofa in the living space.
His room is uncharacteristically messy. My heart breaks as I take in jagged pieces of broken ceramic and glass littering the floor.
He sets me on the bed gently, but he doesn’t join me. He just stares at me, eyes dark.
“Come here,” I whisper, reaching my hand to him. “Please.”
Normally, I’d expect a snarky response. Something like Since when do you say please, princess?
Instead, he lowers himself to the bed and envelops me in his arms, pulling me against his chest. His fingertips dig into my skin.
We cling to each other in silence, and all I can think about is how this feels like home.
I knew I felt something special for Asmo, but I didn’t know it was this deep.
I didn’t know it penetrated my soul. Then again, I had no clue our souls were made for each other.
“Az.” I glance up at him.
His stony gaze won’t meet mine. I reach up, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, but he doesn’t move. I cup his cheek, forcing him to look at me, then press my lips to his. It’s like slipping a key into a lock. He unleashes, his lips moving against mine, tongue probing where our lips meet.
Asmo.
My mate.
I shift in his lap, facing him and wrapping my legs around his torso. His hands grip my back, and I straighten, deepening our kiss. My fingers splay through his hair, grabbing locks and tugging. Soft moans emanate from his throat.
My mate.
I need more.
I need him.
I raise myself upward and break away from the kiss. “Off,” I say, reaching for his belt buckle.
He obliges, tossing the belt from the bed and crashing into something I don’t care about. I lean back on the bed and shimmy out of my pants, desperate to get them off.
When I look back up at him, his gaze is fixed on my center, his own attraction evident.
He looks like he wants to eat me alive. I rise quickly.
All I want right now is to be one with him.
I climb back on top of him, resting my center just above every hardened inch of him.
I lower myself, but he stops me before I can settle onto him.
“Mae,” he croaks. I cut my gaze upward. Unshed tears line his eyes as he stares at the cuffs still around my wrists. “I…I thought…” His voice cracks. “I’m so sorry. I was so…”
“I know. It’s okay,” I whisper. I lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s okay.”
Because it is. It’s okay. We’re back together, and everything is okay. I don’t care if the entire kingdom crumbles around us. As long as we’re together, everything is okay.
I lower myself onto him. Pleasure shoots up my spine as every inch of him fills every inch of me. Perfectly made to fill every space and hollow.
“I thought you were gone,” he whispers against my neck as he begins to rock himself inside of me.
Pressure builds with the rhythmic motion. His nails scrape my back, and I let out a moan at the sharp sting, the sweet pain.
“But I could feel you, right here.” He takes my hand and places it against his muscled chest, the broken chain dangling against him as he slowly moves inside me.
Against his heart. It beats wildly against my hand.
I slow my hips to focus on his heartbeat, then I reach for my own chest, feeling the rhythm that thumps against my own ribcage.
They beat in the same rhythm.
I bring his hand to my chest and place his palm over my heart. “Do you feel that? Do you feel how they’re the same?”
One corner of his mouth twitches upward, and my heart threatens to melt. I missed his smile. And that damned dimple.
“I know,” he says.
I pause, even though my body protests the interruption. “What do you mean, you know?”
“I’ve known since the night of your coronation dinner.”
“Known what, Asmo?” I ask.
His eyes soften. He brings a hand up, tucks a piece of hair behind my ear.
He drags his thumb along my jawline. “I could feel that something was wrong with you. I don’t know how.
It was some instinctual, primal feeling in my gut.
I just knew you were in danger. When Marik returned, when he told me what happened, I knew.
” He pauses, then whispers, “I knew you were my mate. There was no other explanation.”
My heart threatens to implode. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
His smile is sad. “Oh, come on, princess. You wouldn’t have taken too well to that.” His thumb slides down my neck, his hand now resting against the base. Intimate and possessive and carnal. “Plus, wasn’t this way more fun?”
I open my mouth to protest, but he shuts me up with his lips, his tongue, his hips moving back and forth, and I lose any coherent thoughts I had.
We collide with a ferocity that could only be described as a wreck.
Because that’s what it feels like. Two people so drawn to each other that when they meet, it can only be a crash.
It can only be some combination of tongues and teeth and lips and hands grabbing and nails clawing and lungs expanding and backs arching and hips meeting and thrusting thrusting thrusting and mouths wide open as waves roll and roll and roll through each of them.
I don’t try to stifle my moans. My blood warms and my skin feels like it’s made from pure fire. Beneath me, Asmo lets out a long moan and stills, his fingers digging into my hips as he releases himself deep inside of me.
I collapse against him, head resting on his shoulder, one hand splayed against his chest.
“If we’re mates, why did you say no? When I asked you to marry me?” I whisper against his collarbone.
“Would you believe me if I said I’m stubborn?”
I snort. “Yes.”
He lifts a hand and strokes my hair, playing with the tips, sending gentle aftershocks of pleasure shooting down my spine.
“Good, because it’s the truth.” He sighs, and it feels bone deep.
“I was still clinging to the future I planned for myself, but it all changed when Marik threatened your life. Something snapped in me. And when Cora…” He shudders.
“When she fired that lightning bolt at you…when you dropped, I felt my own heart stutter. That confirmed everything. I’ve just been waiting on you, princess.
” He twirls a piece of my hair around his finger.