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“Gareth, you have to stop.” But she moves her hips, her round ass cradling my cock as I move against her.
“I will make you scream, my beloved. Have you begging me to stop wringing pleasure from your body.”
Pinching her nipple, I twist it. She whimpers, and I want to devour that sound.
“Break the deal. Give in to me, and I will have you writhing in pleasure as I lick your sweet cunt.”
Her gasp is torture, and I slip my other hand around her hip and down to the apex of her thighs.
“We made a deal.” She arches when I press my finger between her soft flesh. Wet and hot, she’s ready for my claim.
“Tell me you want to break it.” I rub her, teasing my finger along that perfect spot between her thighs.
She shudders, the scent of her pleasure driving me even deeper into madness. “If I break it, will you still go with me to the mines?”
“The mines?” My feral claws the inside of my skull. I will never take my mate into danger. “Forget about the mines. I will keep you safe. You will be a jewel in the winter realm’s crown.”
She stiffens, her scent changing like a wild rainstorm. “No.”
Claim her. My feral pushes me to bite her, to make my mark on her body. I want to so badly … But I can’t. Not until she grants me a true mating.
“Gareth.” She takes a deep breath. “Let me go.”
I press my lips to her ear. “I will never let you go.”
A tremor flutters through her, and I can feel her need pulsing down the bond. But I also feel her resolve. It’s fiery and strong just like her.
It takes more strength than I knew I had, but I drop my hands and back away. The feral roars, my gut burning as if it clawed me from the inside.
“I, um. I should get dressed.” The wobble in her voice is almost too much to bear, but I force myself to back away. I don’t look away, though. Not when my glorious mate’s skin is on such perfect display.
She chooses a dress and pulls it over her head, the silvery material flowing along her body like a slick river.
“Underwear is in the drawers along the back.” The dark-haired female stands in the same spot, but she’s stowed her knife. Her cheeks are a bright pink, and she doesn’t meet my eye.
I would apologize for my brashness in pursuing my mate in front of her. But that’s the old Gareth, the one who depends on rules and decorum. I’m too far gone now, the feral thrumming through me. I would have gladly taken Beth on that floor and given her every inch of me with the whole city watching for all I care.
Noise from the main room with the fountain echoes into the dressing room, and I tense.
The dark-haired female rushes out, not giving me another look.
“By the Spires!” someone exclaims. “Who did that to you?”
A pained groan is the only answer as more scuffling noises sound.
“I warned them.” Beth rests her forehead against my back. “They didn’t listen.”
“They won’t harm you.” I brace myself against the entry to the closet, ready to rip through anyone who thinks of hurting Beth.
“They’re friends. At least, I think they are. They gave me a bath and new clothes and food and water.” She wraps her arms around my waist, drawing a purr from the feral.
“He’s already here?” A female voice grates through the air from the fountain room.
“Who do you think destroyed the door?” the dark-haired female replies.
“Hello in there. Winter realm fae?” The lower female voice calls and approaches, but I don’t move from my spot blocking the closet.
“You took my mate.” I flex my fists.
Beth runs a hand down my back. “Calm down. I know her.”
“Silmaran,” Beth raises her voice. “You should back off. He’s nearly feral.”
“Nearly?” She harrumphs. “Chastain can’t walk, and I think I lost a pint of blood.”
Beth sighs. “If you’d let me talk instead of having that brute drag me off, then I would have told you not to do any of the things you just did.”
“Where is the brute?” I will paint these sandy walls with his blood.
“Don’t worry about him,” Beth soothes, her hands caressing my back. “You’re here. I’m safe.”
“Can I come in?” Silmaran is just outside the door.
I growl low in my throat.
“You’d better not.” Beth pushes me a little. “Move. I think you’ll feel better once you’ve had a bath.”
“A bath?” I look at her over my shoulder.
“Yeah, it’s this amazing new thing where you get in a pool of water and—”
“I know what a bath is.” Her wit is going to get her spanked.
“Well, look. There’s a tub in there. I bathed. You should, too.”
“You have to come with me.” I turn back toward the door, ready to pounce if anyone dares enter this room.
“I already bathed.” She pats my back.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight.” I will bathe for her, but not without her.
“Fine. I’ll sit with you while you take a bath, okay?”
“I’ll send in food and water, if it’s all right with you.” Silmaran grunts a little. “It doesn’t need stitches,” she hisses to someone with her. “Nemar, get someone to come replace the door before the entire neighborhood starts talking.”
“On it.” A male.
I grit my teeth. Why is there a male prowling around outside Beth’s dressing area?
“Okay, you’re giving me some sort of dark murder vibes. Let’s go.” Beth ducks under my arm and darts toward the bathing room.
I catch her with ease and pull her to me.
“Stop rubbing your giant cock on me.” She wiggles her tight ass as she says it.
I can’t stop my smile. “Giant, is it?”
“I mean, it’s probably average for winter realm fae. Nothing special.” She shrugs and pulls me to the edge of the round tub.
“You think it’s giant.” My chest swells with pride as she rolls her eyes and scoots around me.
“I meant average.”
I turn toward her and lean down, my lips so close to hers. “You didn’t say average, you said—” I yell as she shoves me back. My foot hits the edge of the sunken tub, my balance fails me, and I wind up underwater with my smirking beloved standing above me.
3
Beth
He’s clean and fed and staring at me with an intensity that verges on a physical touch. How in the Spires am I supposed to hold out until after we rescue Clotilde? I’m just a changeling, after all. And for a fae like Gareth—one who looks at me like I’m whole, like I’m more than a damaged woman in over her head—I’m weak. He seems to know what I’m thinking, because a sexy smirk creeps across his face as he finishes toweling off his hair.
“Stop looking at me like that.” I cross my arms over my chest, but I’m certain he’s already seen my tingling-hard nipples.
“Sorry, my beloved.” He tightens the leather belt at his trim waist and dons a white shirt made of much lighter material than even I’m used to. The Cranthum people are exhibitionists, it seems.
“If you two are finished, we’d like to have a few words.” Silmaran hovers outside the dressing room.
“We should leave.” Gareth steps between me and the door. “Get to the mines and get out.”
“The mines?” Silmaran asks. “How do you intend to make it to the mines?”
“That’s none of your concern.” He’s starting to get aggressive again. That’s bad for two reasons: first, when he’s like this, my mind goes blank and my lady-bits go molten, and second, he might kill Silmaran first and ask questions later … or never.
I take his hand. “Come on. Sil is a friend.”
“Just because the two of you knew each other in Byrn Varyndr doesn’t mean—”
“She’s right. I’m your friend. If you’d just come out and let me explain, I can prove it to you.”
G
areth hesitates.
I squeeze his hand. “Let’s hear them out.”
“They took you.” His glower is darker than the night on the Red Plains.
“Look, you won’t make it to the mines without my help. The Abyss has claimed far sturdier travelers than even you, winter fae. If you want to survive—and if you want your mate to survive—then you need me to help you on your journey.”
