Chapter Eight
The library was vastly different from what Lana imagined it would be. She had expected it to be a musty, dark room with a few pieces of old furniture and some torn and tattered books thrown on dusty shelves. A place disregarded by those within the prison, and neglected without care.
What it actually turned out to be was far more than a forgotten archive.
The library was a hidden sanctuary, untouched by time and breathtaking in its quiet grandeur.
An entire wall of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the glowing lake beyond.
The shimmering radiance coming from the water spilled through the glass, bathing the room in a soft blue glow that made every polished surface gleam.
The play of light and shadows made the room come alive, transforming the vast chamber into an enchanted paradise.
Rows of towering bookcases stretched into the darkness.
The wooden frames were carved with intricate silver vines and faded runes that protected what was on each of the shelves.
The bookcases held a remarkable collection of knowledge.
Delicate scrolls were piled beside massive tomes with spines bent and cracked from use.
Leather-bound journals with fragile pages rested comfortably alongside glossy hardcovers and modern paperbacks, creating an unexpected blend of ancient and modern wisdom.
Several long wooden tables occupied the center of the room, each surrounded by high-backed chairs. A more intimate sitting area was furnished with leather armchairs and an oversized sofa centered around a stone fireplace that currently sat empty and devoid of flames.
High overhead was a vaulted ceiling supported by heavy timber beams. Crystal lanterns hung from silver chains, each containing a pulsing sphere of pale magical light that had sparked to life the moment they had entered the room.
The captured starlight added contrast to the cool blue illumination streaming in through the wall of windows.
“This is where I usually spend most of my time,” Mordecai admitted.
“I can see why. It’s beautiful,” Lana said softly.
“You’re beautiful.” The words seemed torn from him unintentionally, and he looked decidedly uncomfortable once he realized he’d spoken out loud. “Take a seat. There are some drinks and food stored in the back if you—”
He started to let go of her hand, but she held tight, refusing to let go. She took a step closer to him, invading his personal space. His otherwise stoic expression never changed, yet she could somehow tell that he was pleased with her boldness.
Holding his hand felt like a lifeline to her, and she didn’t want to lose that connection between them. She didn’t want to let go. Not for a single second.
“Don’t let go,” she whispered.
“I won’t. Ever.”
Reaching out, he stroked a hand down her long braid.
When he reached the end, he wrapped it loosely around his fist and gave the gentlest tug, slowly tilting her head back until her gaze met his.
This time, there was no surprise. No stolen moment.
This time, she knew the kiss was coming.
He gave her every opportunity to pull away, gave her ample time to protest.
She never did.
Protesting was the last thing she wanted. Instead, she leaned into him, and her breath caught as the space between them disappeared. Anticipation fluttered through her, warm and intoxicating, making her pulse race.
A faint smile curved his lips before he closed the final inch between them.
His mouth brushed against hers with exquisite tenderness, lingering just long enough to make her crave more before the kiss deepened.
It was slow, unhurried, and filled with everything neither of them had found the words to say.
Lana melted against him without hesitation, returning the kiss with equal devotion.
She thought she was ready, but this kiss was just as overwhelming as the first had been.
In fact, it was even more devastating to her senses since she knew exactly what to expect.
And yet, it still exceeded her expectations in every way.
Mordecai reluctantly broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers as he panted for breath. Each ragged inhale took extreme effort. The temptation to close the distance and claim her mouth again was almost unbearable, but he fought for the willpower to control himself.
His hands wrapped around her arms, fingers tightening and loosening in restless pulses, betraying the battle raging inside of him.
He wasn’t holding her there to keep her from leaving.
He was holding on because, if he let go, he wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to stop himself from kissing her again.
His gaze searched hers, looking for some sign of discomfort or wariness. He felt like he was balanced on the edge of a precipice, one step away from surrendering completely. Every instinct urged him to take that final step, to stop fighting what he felt.
But he wouldn't.
Not without giving her the chance to decide if she wanted to follow him.
His gaze dropped down to her mouth as her tongue peeked out to stroke over her lower lip. He was barely aware of the growl of need that rumbled through his chest as he watched her. He wasn’t sure if she was deliberately trying to kill him or if her actions were simply innately seductive.
Either way, he was completely mesmerized by her.
“You have to be sure, princess. Once we start this, there is no going back.”
He issued the warning before he could stop himself.
She studied him in silence for a moment, then said, “Haven’t we already started?”
“If we complete our mating bond while I’m stuck in here, this might be the only time—”
She didn’t let him finish.
Lifting up on her toes, she pressed her lips against his again to cut off his words. He groaned in pleasure as his control snapped. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he lifted her and carried her over to the closest table. Setting her down, he deepened the kiss as he leaned into her.
He wanted to breathe her in, taste the very essence of her. Angling his head, he sealed his mouth over hers. He loved the way she immediately opened for him, welcoming him in. He stroked his tongue against hers and shuddered at the pleasure surging through him.
By the gods, kissing her was pure magic.
She tasted like sugar and spice, like raw honey wickedly coating his tongue.
He had never tasted anything as wonderful or invigorating.
Pulling her closer, he situated himself between her parted thighs.
He ground his erection against her, hard enough for the pressure of it to satisfy him and make him ache for more.
He wanted to groan in protest when she broke the kiss and pulled back to stare up at him.
The sudden loss of her warmth left him aching, and every instinct urged him to pull her close and reclaim what she’d taken from him.
Her beautiful eyes looked luminous as they filled with unshed tears, seeming impossibly bright beneath the dim glow in the room.
The sight stole his breath.
She was breathtakingly beautiful with her emotions laid bare, but the sight of her tears twisted something inside of him.
He never wanted to be the reason she cried.
Not a single precious tear. He searched her face, silently pleading for reassurance, desperate to know what lay behind the emotion welling in her gaze.
Because if she looked at him with regret, he wasn’t sure his battered heart could take it.
“What is it, princess? What is wrong?”
She was silent for another heartbeat, then she said, “Thank you for waiting for me.”
Those simple words struck him with more force than any blow ever could. They slipped past every wall he’d built around himself and settled deep within him where they nurtured a spark of hope.
Joy swelled inside him until it was almost painful to contain.
She knew what he had endured. Knew what those long, lonely years had cost him.
She knew how many nights he’d questioned whether he would ever see freedom again.
Whether anyone would remember him, or if he would become nothing more than another forgotten soul rotting behind stone walls.
And instead of mourning what had been stolen…she was thanking him.
Thanking him for surviving.
Thanking him for refusing to give up.
His throat tightened as emotion threatened to overwhelm him. All those years of suffering suddenly carried meaning. Every sacrifice he’d endured no longer felt like pointless cruelty inflicted by fate.
Not when it had led her to him.
She had found him.
Somehow, through the darkness and despair, she had found him.
If enduring decades of pain meant he could stand before her now and hear those words from her lips, all of those years hadn’t been wasted.
Somehow, against all odds, she had found him, and she was grateful for the love that had been waiting for her.
His lips crushed down on hers in a brutal kiss. She had woken the animal within him, but she didn’t fear it. She embraced it. Claimed it. Wrapping her leg around him, she pulled him even tighter against her.
Excitement surged through him when she used her magic to get rid of their clothes, leaving them in a discarded pile on the floor. She moaned as she arched against him, pressing herself even closer to him. He wanted to take it slow, to savor every inch of her, but he couldn’t wait.
Need was riding him too hard to hold back any longer.
The feel of her bare hands sliding over him caused gooseflesh to prickle along his skin.
When she bent her head and pressed a kiss over his heart, he shuddered with pleasure.
It took a moment to realize that she was pressing her lips directly over the mating marking she had branded him with.
He felt more of her magic flowing into him through her lips.
She was doing more than just claiming him.
She was nourishing his magic with her own.