He exhaled sharply, his hand sliding low over her stomach, pressing down just above where they were joined. She gasped, feeling theweight of his palm and the way it forced her to acknowledge how deeply he filled her.
He nipped the side of her neck. “Tell me if I’m too rough.”
“No,” she whispered, arching into his touch, desperate for more. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
His answering growl rumbled against her, vibrating through her chest.
Alarik’s grip shifted, hauling her up with a strength that stole the air from her lungs, lifting her leg even higher. The new angle made her gasp, the stretch deeper, almost unbearable in its intensity.
Her head fell back against his shoulder, her lips parting in a silent gasp as he thrust into her with rapid, punishing precision.
His mouth was everywhere—on her neck, at her jawline—leaving open-mouthed kisses that burned as much as they soothed. His teeth grazed her earlobe, biting just enough to have her pulse skittering beneath her skin.
Reiya’s nails dug into his forearm, clinging to him as that tight, impossible coil of pleasure twisted tighter.
“Alarik.” Her voice trembled, his name slipping out like a plea, like she might break apart if he didn’t give her what she needed.
He faltered for just a heartbeat, his rhythm stuttering at the sound of his name on her lips.
“I’m here,” he whispered fiercely, his hand flexing at her hip as if to prove it—grounding her, keeping her tethered to him as pleasure began to splinter through her.
He gave her another hard thrust. The tension snapped, and she shattered in his arms, her body arching against him as wave after wave of release crashed over her. His mouth caught her cries, swallowing them as if he couldn’t bear to let them escape into the open air.
Moments later, Alarik’s grip tightened, his hips grinding deep, and he followed with a low, guttural sound that sent shivers rolling down her spine. She felt him spill inside her, the warmth of it grounding her even as her knees threatened to buckle beneath the weight of her own release.
They stayed like that—entwined, breathless—Alarik’s arms wrapped around her, holding her flush against his chest as if she mightslip away if he let go. His forehead pressed to her shoulder, his breath warm against her skin, slowing but still uneven.
“You’re dangerous,” he murmured, a rough laugh vibrating through his chest. “I should’ve known better than to spar with you.”
Reiya smiled faintly, tilting her head to press her lips to the corner of his mouth. “And I should’ve known better than to challenge you.”
His golden gaze flicked to hers, heat still lingering in his eyes as he slowly lowered her back to her feet. His hands didn’t leave her, lingering at her waist, as if the idea of distance between them was unbearable.
He kissed her again—slow and deep, like he wanted to commit every touch to memory.
“You win,” he whispered against her lips.
Reiya’s smile curled lazily as she leaned into him. “I know.”
Chapter Fifty-One
REIYANA
Several days passed in a quiet rhythm, with Reiya immersing herself in palace life. Mornings were filled with lessons—language, history, culture, court etiquette—under Lady Neda’s kind but watchful guidance, leaving her mind buzzing with new knowledge.
Kaelen and Alarik, consumed by council meetings, diplomatic talks, and administrative tasks, had little time to spare. She refrained from interrupting their busy schedules, spending most of her days in the company of Thalina and Lady Neda.
But her nights belonged tothem.
They still took their turns with her, never together—reserving that final surrender for the moment her Heat arrived. But they prepared her, patient and relentless, their hands mapping every inch of her with slow, knowing intent. Calloused fingers trailed down the curve of her spine, teasing, pressing against that forbidden place with just enough pressure to make her shudder. Each time, she writhed beneath them, breath catching at the unfamiliar stretch, but they never pushed—only murmured dark promises against her skin.
Soon.
The word sent a thrill through her, anticipation curling deep in her belly, making her crave what she was only just beginning to understand.
This morning, the garden was quiet, steeped in sunlight. Reiya sat beside Lady Neda beneath the shade of a flowering acacia tree, the older woman’s needle gliding in and out of pale silk as she embroidered. A gentle breeze stirred the blossoms overhead, scattering petals across the flagstones.
During these halcyon days, thoughts of home lingered at the edges of Reiya’s mind. Just that morning, a letter had arrived from Aethonia. She’d read it twice—once for the words, and again for the weight between them.
