But Kyzari needs her.
So does her kingdom, ground beneath the fist of my ruthless brother.
She has no idea what sort of power she has. Whatdifferenceshe could make if she can find the courage to dredge up her past and look it in the eye.
I place my sponge on a nearby rock as she steps down into the steaming water that swallows her to the curve of her waist—all wild beauty, emitting a hungry growl.
She powers through the haze that claws at her like misty fingers, water lapping at her skin in a way that makes me ache with envy.
Until we clash.
My body bands around her, crushing her against me. A guttural groan of relief surges up my throat as she kisses me with all the feral dominance of a ravenous dragon—all teeth and lashes of her frosty tongue, her hands roaming.
Clawing at me.
I tremble in the wake of each touch. Each ragged breath. So close I can feel the fierce thump of her heart, tasting her savage appetite, her scent washed out by Líri’s leathery musk.
My bloodboils, almost searing holes in my skin. Almost incinerates my physical and mental fortitude.
Suppressing my throbbing desire to grip her thigh, lift it, and claim her so hard and fast she turns soft like kneaded dough, I draw the courage to pry us apart, certain that splitting the world would be an easier task.
Slowly, I tilt my head so my forehead meets hers.
Our breaths battle as I cradle both sides of her face, hands shaking, looking down into her blown pupils. “Hello, Moonbeam.”
Her response is a carnal growl that affects me all the way to my marrow, making my muscles ache to flex around her again. Give her what webothwant.
Her gaze flicks down to my hardness pressed against her navel—ready.
For her.
Mewling, she claws at my back. Tries to pull me closer. When that fails, she laves at my neck with hungry kisses that almost buckle me, grabs my shoulders, and lifts herself like she’s trying to climb a tree. Using the leverage, she positions herself for me to thrust deep—thighs wide, spine dipped so her hot, slick core brushes against the tip of my raging cock.
It takes every bit of my self-control to slowly—gently—reach behind my shoulders, grab her hands one at a time, and pry them off. Once she’s back on her feet before me, brows pinched, I place my hand on her shoulder and push down just enough to pin her in place.
Her frown deepens.
She tries to jerk forward, searching my eyes. Makes small grunting sounds that speak a thousand words. But they’re not good enough, because they’re notactualwords.
They’re beast. Wild.
I glance at Líri through the trees with her back to us, hunched over her prey. Making sure she hasn’t changed her posture now that I’m working to shift the dominance from Raeve to myself.
To bring herback.
The young Moonplume is still feasting, snapping her head to the side as she rips at her kill, stripping meat from the bones. Not even looking at us. Contrasting behavior from the past two daes since I left the village on Rygun’s back.
They followed at a distance. Have silently scouted this meadow since I was set down.
Líri knew where I was, yet she still chose to feast in the meadow. Didn’t challenge me or try to chase me away. Didn’t get between us when Raeve began moving through the trees. All things she’d be doing if she weren’t willing to be tamed.
It all points one way:
Raeve’sthe problem. She’s chosen to abandon the softer parts of herself rather than face whatever hurt surfaced during the bonding process.
It’s almost enough to douse every bit of heat from my veins.
I lift the sponge off the rock.
