“Please… fuck. Daisy, please…” I growl, hands gripping the sheets, my head thrown back. She’s driving me fucking crazy.
“Say it again,” she breathes, stilling above me.
“What?” I pant.
“Say please,” she smirks, devilish.
Little fucking minx. “Please,” I snarl.
She doesn’t even have a chance to agree before I yank her forward, forcing her body flush against mine. I grab her wrists and pin them behind her back with one hand, my other wrapping tight around her throat. I plant my feet into the mattress, bringing up my knees so I can slam up into her with reckless, brutal force.
Her cries echo through the room as I drive into her mercilessly. Her orgasm crashes over her, a scream ripping from her throat as her inner walls convulse around me. But I don’t stop. I fuck her harder, deeper, my body locked on hers like a predator.
“Korithax. My husband. My king!” She screams.
Those words send me over the edge. I slam her down onto me, burying myself as deep as I can go, roaring my release as I explode inside her. The power pours from me unchecked—so wild the silk curtains around the bed burst into flames.
She collapses against me as I release her throat, trembling but still full of my cock, both of us panting like we’ve just survived a battle.
“Holy gods,” she breathes.
“What the fuck,” I mutter, glancing at the flames eating through the curtains.
“Does that happen often?” She asks between soft laughter, pointing at the desecrated pile of ash.
“That’s never happened,” I say, frowning. My brows pull together as something tight curls in my chest.
That power—I’ve never lost control of it like that before. Not once in all my life. Not even during war. Not even during my worst wrath. Not to mention my reserves were practically empty from realm jumping.
What the fuck is she doing to me? This girl—this mortal, beautiful, devastating little flower—was changing everything. And for some godforsaken reason, I found myself not giving a single fuck.
She’sasleep on my chest.
Her cheek rests just over my heart, soft breaths puffing against my skin, her leg hooked lazily over mine like she’s always belonged there. My arm is propped under my head, my other hand drifting slowly up and down her bare back, tracing the curve of her spine with light strokes.
I should be sleeping. I want to. The exhaustion from the journey was truly hitting me now. Not to mention the way Daisy and I had just fucked each other like our lives depended on it. But I can’t. The soul tether has grown so strong, it’s bordering on painful. Like something deep inside me is pulling tight, demanding I acknowledge what’s happening between us. And I’m starting to believe that this is more than just an obsession. More than lust. More than fate’s cruel game.
This, whatever she is, feels like a bond I’ve only ever heard whispered about. A myth. A legend. A mate. I’ve never believed in them, considering I’ve never actually seen any. Most immortals die before they ever find theirs in my realm, if they exist. And a mortal with an immortal? Unheard of.
But the way her soul calls to mine? It’s exactly how they describe it. Once two bonded souls come into contact, there’sno resisting it. No denying. You can try to walk away, try to lie to yourself. Hell, you can even try to kill the connection. But it always comes back. Always finds you, always burns through. And gods, ever since I met her… I haven’t even been able to stay away.
I don’t want to stay away, I can admit that to myself now. Even before I met her physically, there was something strange, something that pulled at me. I rarely linger after a soul deal is made. I collect, I leave. That is how I’ve always done it. But the day her father summoned me, offering up her soul, something inside of me couldn’t wait to go and tell her. I waited for her, I actually fucking waited. And when she appeared… everything changed. Her voice. Her eyes. The broken light that still glowed softly inside her, even when the world had tried its damned hardest to stamp it out. Her soul sang to mine instantly. Even then—especially then—I think I already knew. Like the universe had placed her right in my path, gift-wrapped in pain and defiance, just for me.
I never believed in fate, not really. The divine assholes had me convinced that everything was planned, made, and created. But this? This feels like fate handed me something precious. Something once-in-a-lifetime. And now that I have her, I’ll never let her go. Not in this life. Not in the next. Even if I were reborn a thousand times, I’d choose her in every single life. I’d spend every lifetime carving through time and space to find her again. I’ve lived my entire existence as a weapon. As an heir. As a monster. But now… something inside me is alive, and it burns only for her. I’m more than just the heir to a broken throne. I’m hers.
I close my eyes,resting my chin against her head. Her hair smells faintly of her lavender scent, and the familiar heat ofher skin comforts me in a way nothing else ever has. She softly moves, a small sound escaping her lips. A whimper. Her fingers twitch against my ribs, and I glance down to see her brows furrowed. Her whole body begins to tremble, delicate muscles tensing against mine.
“Shhh… Daisy, you’re okay.” I whisper, brushing my lips to her temple. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
But she doesn’t wake. She keeps shaking against me. I’ve never seen her have a nightmare before. She starts mumbling, words I don’t understand. The language is ancient. Not demonic, not celestial or fae or anything I recognise. I strain to make sense of it, but whatever it is, it’s older than any tongue I’ve ever heard spoken.
My heart lurches. Her skin starts heating beneath my hands rapidly. The warm, sleepy glow becomes something more volatile. Her body is radiating heat like a forge, sweat beading across her skin in seconds. The air around us thickens, and the scent of ash slams into me like a wall. My head jerks up, scanning the room. No flames. No hellfire or soulfire to be seen. My powers are under control. So why does it smell like smoke?
I glance down at her again. Her eyes are shut tight, tears spilling in steady streams from beneath her lashes. She’s crying in her sleep, but not waking. Her breathing is ragged. Desperate.
“Daisy,” I whisper again, voice sharper now. I cup her cheek. “Daisy, wake up.” She doesn’t. “Daisy,” I growl.
Her lips part, another line of that ancient language slipping from them, soft and urgent. And then?—
