Reon groans as he pushes himself to his feet. “Looks like everyone’s pairing off. Guess that leaves me with the human.”
Ronin doesn’t even look up. “Touch me and I’ll snap both your hands off at the wrists.”
Reon lifts his hands in surrender. “Didn’t mean it. Not entirely.” He tucks his hands behind his back for good measure. “Maybe I’ll go throw things at the air with Zyphoro instead.”
He follows her lead literally by vaulting through the open window, his laughter echoing faintly as his wings catch the wind.
The Blades disperse, and Solena and Orios exchange a knowing glance, also deciding to take the long way down, hand in hand.
Ronin lingers behind me for a moment. “I’m going to find the blacksmith,” he says. “I’ll be ready when it’s time.”
I nod. He lifts his gaze to Daed, who’s already watching him.
“Daedalus,” Ronin says with an acknowledging dip of his head.
Daed straightens, shoulders squaring. “In battle,” he replies, “you call me Rook.”
Ronin doesn’t understand the full meaning of what Daed has just offered him, few would, but the solemn look in his eyes says he feels the weight of it all the same.
“Rook, then,” he says simply, before turning and following the others down the stairs.
When they’re gone, Daed leans forward on the table, palms braced, shoulders heavy with thought. I step behind him, sliding my hands around his waist, pressing my nose against the warm line of his spine.
“Come, husband,” I murmur. “Solena is right. We should rest. I would hold you a long while before the end.”
He turns his head just enough that I catch his storm-gray eyes over his shoulder.
“I want that too,” he says quietly, “forever and always.”
His breath leaves him rough, uneven. “But I can’t still my mind.”
My hands trail up his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my palms.
“Do you need me to distract you?” I whisper.
He tips his head back, a rumbling moan slipping out as he laces my fingers over his chest.
“Fuck yes. I’ve been able to think of nothing else since you rubbed yourself all over me in the river.”
He turns in one fluid motion, palms circling my wrists, pulling me flush against him. I smile, teeth catching my bottom lip as he leans in, only for him to freeze, breath stalling just as heat licks through me.
“What is it?” I ask, brow arching. “Am I not as enticing as I was a second ago?”
He gives a half-grin, a flimsy mask, then shakes his head as his gaze catches mine.
“You are all I want. All I think of.”
“Then what?” I press.
He drags a finger along his cheek, pressing hard into his temple as if trying to burrow through bone.
“Even your heat wrapped around my cock would not stop the noise,” he says. “Even as sweet as you taste on my tongue when you come,” he leans close to my ear, voice a rasp, “and you will come… if I am to rid this world of Gygarth, and reunite us with Estra, I need the voices to quiet.”
If he’s trying to stop me from wanting him to take me on this table, he is doing a painfully poor job. I drag in a breath, steadying the ache curling low in my belly.
“Then how can I help you, husband? Tell me.”
He goes still, thinking, chin lifting as I slide my nose along the sharp line of his jaw. He hums, deep in thought.
