Chapter 54 #2
The village had quieted under the hush of twilight, the revelry winding down to murmurs. Leukos led Alena by hand through the darkness to the roundhouse Damona had prepared for their wedding night, his thumb tracing slow circles against her skin.
Alena’s heart thundered—both thrilled and terrified to spend her first night with Leukos.
Her husband.
The air was warm, heavy with the mingled scents of feast and flowers still clinging to her hair, but none of it calmed the wild fluttering in her chest.
The roundhouse was easy to spot with bundles of dried herbs and lavender tied beneath the eaves. Soft light spilled through the doorway, and smoke curled from the opening above.
Inside, a small fire crackled low in the hearth.
Candles flickered on carved wooden shelves.
The beams above were strung with bunches of sage, rosemary, and thyme.
The air was thick with the scent of milk and honey, wildflowers blooming in every corner like scattered blessings.
At the centre, a bed of furs waited, simple and inviting.
A smile tugged at Alena’s lips. The hut had the air of a sanctuary, warm and welcoming. “Did Damona really prepare all this?”
“She said it’s tradition,” Leukos replied, stepping inside. “To bless the newlyweds’ space.”
He closed the door behind them, and an immediate hush wrapped around them like a held breath.
Alena turned, still clutching the edge of his cloak between her fingers. He was already watching her.
No crown. No armour. Just Leukos in a loose white tunic, the collar open at the neck, his raven-black hair mussed from the wind.
The hard edges of him softened in the firelight, but nothing dulled the intensity of his gaze.
The same man who’d faced gods and defied an empire now looked at her as if she were something sacred.
He lifted a hand, brushing the curve of her cheek so gently it sent a tremor down her spine. Her heartbeat raced so fast she was sure he could hear it.
“I’ve never…” she began, then faltered, her face tingling with sudden embarrassment. “I mean—I haven’t… been with anyone.” Before he could speak, the words rushed out in a flurry. “Katell explained things to me. I know what to expect, and I’ve… well, you know…”
Leukos stepped closer, heat flickering in his eyes. “You’ve touched yourself?” he asked, far too pleased with himself.
Alena groaned, pressing her hands to her cheeks, which burned hotter than the hearth across the room. “By the Moon, must you say it out loud?”
A quiet huff escaped him, lips tugging into a smile that threatened to break through his calm. His hands found hers. “You don’t have to be nervous. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. I’ll be content just holding you all night.”
“No, I’m ready,” she said, and meant it. “I just… I don’t want to disappoint you. You’ve clearly done this before.”
Leukos didn’t flinch. He stepped closer, close enough that her world narrowed to the press of his chest, the brush of his breath. His hands cupped her face, tilting her chin until her gaze met his.
“You could never disappoint me, love,” he murmured, the heat in his voice threading through her. “You’re my wife. And nothing—not a single thing—could ever change that.”
Wife. The word struck her like fire to dry kindling, sparking through her veins.
He leaned closer, his gaze consuming. “Do you think I care about anything that came before this?” His thumb brushed the curve of her lip. “Yes, I’ve been with others. But none of them ever mattered.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Not like you.”
His words stole her breath. Her heart fluttered wildly, chest tight with anticipation and longing. The way he looked at her made her feel both fragile and fierce at once.
Still, doubt lingered. “I don’t know what to do.”
Leukos’ hands slid down to her hips, anchoring her against him, his voice a low rasp against her ear. “Then let me show you.”
He kissed her again, harder this time, his control fraying at the edges. She curled her fingers into his tunic, pulling him closer, desperate for him.
He caught the backs of her thighs and lifted her, laughter spilling against his lips as he carried her to the bed. When he laid her down, it was with a tenderness that shattered her.
For a moment, he just stood there, dark eyes drinking her in. Then he bent to kiss her again, achingly soft, until tears blurred her vision.
Clothes fell away in careful touches between kisses—her dress first, then his tunic—leaving nothing between them but heat and want.
His weight settled over her, grounding her, his lips grazing her forehead in a soft promise before trailing down her jaw. His mouth traced her throat, her chest, exploring her skin with a purpose that made her ache with longing. His thumb stroked her nipple, sending a shiver racing down her spine.
The world outside ceased to exist; all that mattered was the press of his body, the movement of his lips, the way each touch ignited something fierce and alive within her.
She arched into him, hands clutching at his shoulders, the fire inside her building with every slow drag of his mouth against her skin. She had never felt anything like this—so consumed by desire, so completely in tune with someone else. He kissed her as if committing every inch of her to memory.
When his fingers slipped between her thighs, she gasped, her body jolting at the sheer intensity. But when his thumb brushed the aching peak of her, pleasure tore through her so fiercely she cried out, the sound ragged in the quiet room.
Leukos grinned, unrepentant, a flash of male pride in his eyes that made her laugh even as her bones melted into molten heat. He hovered above her, his dark gaze searching hers, asking without words.
Breathless, heart hammering, she nodded. “I’m sure.”
He shifted, positioning himself at her entrance. A flicker of nerves fluttered in her chest, but it vanished the second he touched her again, fear dissolving into heat. His mouth found her throat, her collarbone, the slope of her shoulder.
Then—pressure. A sting. Her breath hitched, body tensing. Pain, brief but sharp.
Leukos stilled instantly, one hand braced beside her, the other caressing her cheek. “Are you all right?”
She swallowed. “Just… slow.”
He kissed her forehead in answer and moved with deliberate care, his eyes never leaving hers, watching for any sign of discomfort. But there was none—only a growing need for more.
Alena gasped when he filled her completely. The ache dulled, shifting into warmth that bloomed low in her belly. Her breath caught, a soft moan slipping free as sensation overtook hesitation.
Her hands roamed over him with trembling urgency, seeking him out. Fingers traced the hard lines of his chest and the flex of muscle beneath sweat-slick skin as he moved within her.
She could feel him everywhere—breath ghosting her neck, hands gripping her waist, his body sending sparks licking up her spine.
And still, she couldn’t get close enough. Couldn’t stop touching him, couldn’t stop burning in the best way imaginable.
Leukos stilled, chest heaving, lips parting in a half-smile, eyes smouldering. “Keep that up,” he warned, voice taut with need, “and I’m not going to last.”
Alena’s cheeks flamed. “Sorry… I’ll stop.”
He dipped his head, brushing his mouth over hers. “Don’t you dare,” he murmured, teeth grazing her lips. “Touch me all you want, love. I’m yours.”
Her fingers slid into his hair, pulling him closer while he drove into her—faster now, urgency overtaking rhythm. She clung to him, breathless, the world narrowing to the press of his body and the exquisite undoing building between them.
Leukos broke with a low groan rumbling from his chest, his face buried against her neck. Her name fell from his lips like a sacred prayer meant for her alone.
For a long moment, the air was filled with ragged breaths and the shudder of their bodies in the aftermath. He held her tightly, his weight comforting. She wrapped her arms around him, fingers threading into his damp hair, anchoring herself to the steady rise and fall of his chest.
Her body still hummed with the echo of what they’d shared, every nerve alive.
“I love you,” she whispered, unable to hold it back.
She tilted her face to him, and he met her gaze. His hand drifted to her hip, tracing slow, soothing circles.
“But I’m also scared that what we have is too good,” she admitted softly. “That it’ll be torn away from us.”
Leukos lifted his head, brow furrowing. “It won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No,” he said, voice low. “But I know this—” He cupped the back of her neck, drawing her forehead to his. “I would turn the world to ice before I let it take you.” A pause. A breath. “You are my soulmate. My forever.”
He sealed his words with a kiss before she could protest, his mouth claiming hers with a hunger that sent a jolt of heat straight to her core. Too soon, he pulled back, brushing a soft kiss to her temple and rising from the bed.
The firelight clung to him, tracing the lines of his body in molten gold.
Every movement held lethal elegance—the roll of muscle under skin, the flex of shoulders and thighs, the curve of his spine.
Her gaze lingered on the ice-blue swirls snaking from his thigh, curling along his side and vanishing at the nape of his neck.
He was danger wrapped in beauty, and her pulse spiked with a delicious ache.
A sudden self-consciousness prickled at her, and she tugged the nearest furs higher over her hips. Her body ached, and the faint slickness between her thighs was a quiet reminder of what they’d just shared.
She’d known there might be blood, and Leukos had no doubt noticed. Had he left to clean himself?
She didn’t know what to do—only that once he was asleep, she’d slip to the hearth and clean herself in private.
For now, she remained in bed, furs clutched in her fists, heart thudding with restless tension.
At least she didn’t have to worry about pregnancy.
Damona had given her a potion to that effect as they prepared for the wedding.
Moments later, however, Leukos returned, still stark naked and carrying the basin of warm water and linen cloth she had planned to use. He settled beside her once more, his presence a familiar comfort that wrapped around her.
Alena lifted herself onto her elbows. “What are you doing?”
“This is the part where I take care of my wife,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
He dipped the cloth into the water, wringing it out before touching it to her bare stomach. Warmth spread across her skin, coaxing her to relax.
But when he moved the furs aside, fingers trailing lower, she flinched. “I can do it.”
She reached for the cloth, but he didn’t let go. “I know,” he murmured, “but I want to.”
Her hand fell away, breath caught in her throat.
He wanted to clean her… down there?
She could only watch—transfixed—as he tended to her with reverent care, the cloth sliding down her slick inner thighs.
A flush crept up her neck, warming her cheeks.
She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes, too overwhelmed by the intimacy of it all—and by the fact that he was seeing her like this and not turning away.
His hand moved with quiet purpose, the other anchoring her thigh. His gestures were more intimate and disarming than anything that had come before, and yet she never wanted the moment to end.
“Are you sore?” he asked.
She cleared her throat. “A little.”
The corner of his lips curved in a wicked smirk. He pressed a feather-light kiss to the inside of her knee, fingers gliding up the smooth line of her thigh, each movement claiming her in a way that made her pulse stutter. “Then let me kiss it better.”
Her breath hitched. “What? Leukos—”
“Lie back down for me, love,” he coaxed, the gentle command sending a thrill straight through her.
“Leukos—” she began, uncertainty warring with desire.
“Trust me.” His dark gaze brimmed with confidence that set her heart racing.
So she did.
And by the Moon, he made her see stars.