“We offer ourselves to the magic,” I say, my hands moving to the ties of her cloak. “Body and soul, heart and spirit. We hold nothing back.”
The cloak falls away, revealing the simple white dress she chose for this moment. It’s beautiful in its simplicity, but it’s not what captures my attention. It’s the way the markings on her skin have spread, spiraling across her collarbone and down her arms in patterns that match my own. The bond preparing her, making her ready for what’s to come.
“Your turn,” she says, her fingers finding the clasps of my shirt. Her touch burns against my skin, and I have to fight not to groan at the simple contact. The weeks of restraint, of careful control, have left me wound tight as a bowstring. Tonight, I finally let go.
She pushes the fabric from my shoulders, her eyes drinking in the sight of my bare chest, the markings that glow silver-bright in the moonlight. When her fingertips trace the spirals that curve around my heart, I shudder at the contact.
“Mine,” she whispers, the word carrying power that makes the very air shimmer.
“Yours,” I agree, my hands cupping her face. “As you are mine.”
The kiss that follows is soft, reverent, a promise sealed with lips and breath and the taste of winter magic. But beneath the tenderness, I can feel the hunger building—hers and mine both, magnified by the ancient power that flows through this place.
“Aelin,” she breathes against my mouth, and my name sounds like a prayer on her lips. “I need you. All of you.”
“And you’ll have me,” I promise, my hands sliding down to the ties of her dress. “Forever and always, you’ll have me.”
The white fabric pools at her feet, leaving her naked in the moonlight except for the silver markings that cover her skin like living art. She’s magnificent—all soft curves and warm skin and eyes that burn with desire and love in equal measure.
“Beautiful,” I whisper, my hands trembling as I reach for her. “So fucking beautiful.”
She falls into my arms like she belongs there, all silk and heat and perfect fit. When I lift her against me, her legs wrap around my waist and her arms circle my neck, bringing us chest to chest, heart to heart.
“I love you,” she says, her forehead resting against mine. “Whatever happens after this, whatever battles we have to fight—I love you.”
The words hit me like a physical blow, and I have to close my eyes against the surge of emotion they bring. “I love you, too,” I manage, my voice rough with feeling. “More than life, more than duty, more than anything.”
The Heart Tree pulses with approval, its crystalline flowers chiming softly in the winter wind. The magic recognizes ourbond, acknowledges the truth of what we feel for each other. Power begins to build around us, warm and golden and shot through with silver light.
I lower her gently to the soft earth beneath the tree, my hands mapping every inch of her body as if I’m trying to memorize her by touch alone. She arches beneath me, her skin flushed with desire, and when my mouth finds the mark on her shoulder she cries out, her nails digging into my shoulders.
“Please,” she gasps, her hips rolling against mine in a rhythm as old as time. “I need…I need…”
“I know what you need,” I growl against her throat, my fangs scraping lightly over her pulse point. “I can smell how wet you are for me, how ready.”
She whimpers at the crude words, her legs falling open in invitation, and when I look down I can see the evidence of her arousal glistening on her thighs. The sight nearly undoes me.
“Touch me,” she pleads, her hands trying to pull me closer. “Please, Aelin, I need your hands on me.”
I oblige, trailing my fingers down her body until I reach the apex of her thighs. She’s soaked, her body already preparing itself for the claiming, and when I brush against her swollen clit she bucks beneath me with a cry of pleasure.
“So responsive,” I murmur, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with gentle pressure. “So perfect for me.”
“Only for you,” she gasps, her head thrown back in abandon. “Only ever for you.”
I work her slowly, carefully, building her pleasure with patient strokes until she’s writhing beneath me, desperate soundsfalling from her lips. The magic around us grows stronger, responding to our desire, and I can feel power crackling along my skin like electricity.
“Aelin, please,” she begs, her hands fisting in my hair. “I need you inside me. I need?—”
“Not yet,” I say, though it costs me everything to hold back. “You’re not ready yet.”
To prove my point, I slide one finger inside her, and she’s tight—so tight I know she’ll need time to adjust to my size. She’s human still, at least partly, and I’m…not. The claiming could hurt her if I’m not careful, and I’d rather die than cause her pain.
I work her gently, adding a second finger when she relaxes enough to take it, stretching her carefully while my thumb continues its maddening circles on her clit. She’s panting now, her body moving restlessly against my hand, and I can feel her climbing toward climax.
“That’s it,” I encourage, my voice rough with desire. “Come for me, beautiful. Let me feel how good I make you feel.”
The orgasm hits her like a wave, her body bowing off the ground as pleasure crashes through her. I feel it through the bond—the white-hot intensity of her release, the way it echoes through our connection and feeds back into my own desire.
