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“Come on. I made a mistake. But you and I are good for each other. You know that. And you know you miss the relief that I can give you. I can see the tension.” He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers softly stroking against my face. “Let me help.”
“No.” I pushed his hand away slowly.
It was nice to be touched, but I was done with him.
“Why? You’re a powerful Worthy with no Nation. We could go anywhere. We don’t have to stay in this place anymore. Think of it, you could be powerful enough to take your own Nation if you wanted to.” I stepped back and gaped at him. “You can take whatever you want. And I could be by your side when you do.” He stepped closer.
I knew he had regretted leaving Gaol and coming here, but I hadn’t realized just how badly he wanted out.
“You’ve completely lost your mind. I don’t want that. I don’t want to take over a Nation. I don’t want to overrule a standing Worthy. And I certainly don’t wantyou,” I seethed at him.
I started to turn, but he gripped both of my wrists, preventing me from grabbing my daggers. I shoved my knee in his stomach, causing him to grunt but he didn’t let go.
“Stop,” he ordered. I felt my wrists burning in his touch and I hissed.
I stopped struggling when I felt a tug. That unmistakable feeling deep inside and the shadow that would always find me. A malicious grin crossed my lips when the ground shook as he landed behind me, shadowing us with his spread wings.
My mate.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ryker
Even though Malina had told me that Kya would be back shortly, she had been gone too long for my liking. I needed to be near her, to have her close. I had left Morah to join her at the blacksmith, curious to see what Riyite weapons I could find for my collection.
I hadn’t gotten far when I felt something through the bond—rage.
Not giving a shit who was near and who saw, I summoned my wings and took to the air. I relied on the bond to guide me to her. Reaching for it, I tugged on that glistening tether, caressing it gently, letting her know I would come for her. She was only one ring away in Ilrek and when I beheld what was happening, my control nearly snapped completely.
Another male laid unwanted hands on my mate.
I landed behind her with a force that caused the ground to rumble beneath me, spreading out my wings with my lips curled in a sneer. I glanced at the male’s hands gripping Kya’s wrists and saw the angry scarlet of burned skin. And I did snap.
I was no longer the Lord of Oryn, no longer a Worthy held to a higher standard. I was a feral male seeing his mate harmed by another.
I ripped his hands off her as I stepped between them, putting my mate behind me. My hand shot out and gripped his pathetic throat. He tried to pull it away, using his fire in an attempt to burn me. But like calls to like, and I couldn’t be burned any more than he could. His flames singed the fabric around my arms, only pissing me off more. A low growl emanated deep in my chest, and the male glared at me with malice in his eyes.
“Got yourself a fancy Lord now, huh?” he rasped from beneath my grasp.
I couldn’t hear if she responded or not, the roaring in my head was too loud. The male’s eyes widened and I knew that he could see their glow as I entered his mind.
Repulsive thoughts and intentions, memories of Kya underneath him, bare and writhing for him, flooded my mind before I pulled back.
He wanted her for all the wrong reasons.
I should have killed him right then, and I wanted to, for the vile ideas that plagued his mind. I wouldn’t allow someone to waltz around with such revolting thoughts of my mate.
“You bed this male?” I asked Kya, who hadn’t moved behind me. My voice was low, edging on the tip of lethal.
“Not anymore.” Her voice was cold and harsh.
My blood began to boil, searing its way through my body.
The male in front of me strained a scoff. “Only after she fucked me and got what she wanted.” He spat at her. “A cold-heartedbitch.”
My shadows erupted out of me and snaked over the male, penetrating his nose and mouth. I released his throat, my shadows had a hold on him. The male dropped to his knees as he clawed at himself in a desperate attempt to relieve the smothering hold in his lungs. His eyes bulged from their sockets and pleaded with me to spare him.
I would do no such thing, I was not merciful to his ilk.
