Page 128 of Shadowborne: Reckoning

“Donavyn—”

He took my mouth again, deeply, but so tenderly, inhaling sharply.

I was overcome. The flood of sensation—his heat, his body, his touch, his love. And the bond, that quivering golden cord that tied his heart to mine and sang of his desperate, aggressive need to protect.

I whimpered again, suffocated by the conflicting weight of fear, and bounty of love. My eyes closed and I stopped fighting, letting those fingers in my hair cradle instead, holding me into his kiss.

And just when he’d stolen the last ounce of my breath, he drew back, only far enough to let his lips trail on mine as he spoke, so we breathed each other’s breath.

“I will remove the bastard that hurt you,” he whispered like a benediction. “I will come for you, and we’ll win—or flee—together. Do you hear me, Bren? He will not win.”

“I know. But—”

“I’ll make you safe. I’m going to marry you and raise our children, tell any man who meets you that you are my wife, my mate, my One. This isn’t over, Bren.”

With every statement, he took me, stronger, deeper, and that thrilling sparkle of joy and love pressed me higher, harder against him. I began to shake, not with fear, but increasing need. My breath coming in short gulps. I couldn’t move away from the wall, or closer to him, though I wanted more. So, I opened my knees and clawed at him, pulling him to me, begging in tiny gasps, the ache within growing, even as it was appeased.

‘Donavyn…’

Tears pinched out from under my eyelids as he groaned and rolled against me, our bodies rippling together, his lips tasting mine, then hovering again. When he slid one hand behind to cup my neck, and the other under my knee, when our bodies began to sing in harmony, and the shaking threatened to become violent, he whispered my name and my eyes flew open to find him staring down at me, his dark gaze reddened and intent.

“I have you, I’ll always have you.” Those simple words that he’d offered so many times, landed heavily in my heart, galvanizing the safety and strength he fed my soul. I arched against him and he took me again—the horizon of pleasure surging closer with every thrust. “Come for me, beautiful—break apart. I’m here. I’ll hold you, I’ll always hold you.”

“But… Donavyn!”

His breath shuddered and his brow furrowed as he begged me in increasingly ragged pleas, to let go.

But if I did, we’d be done. I knew what this was. I knew what it meant. And it would end. It would end with goodbye—

‘No!’ he growled in my head.

With that desperate declaration, he buried both hands in my hair, pulling my head back and filling me again, and the sight of him, eyes burning with dark flames, the tendons on his neck standing proud, his shoulders rolling with tense muscle, and my name on his lips—it ended me.

My jaw dropped on a wordless cry that was meant to be him. He gave a shuddering groan as he watched me bow and jerk, my nails digging divots in his back as I held on, gasping, and he came, meeting me at that peak, both of us holding on as if we might be torn apart.

We would be torn apart.

And so, we clung even harder as we slumped.

I had a moment of fresh panic when he dropped his chin and I thought he would pull away. But he only gathered me up and held me to him as he carried me, stumbling, to the couch and sat, leaning back, while I wrapped arms around his neck, buried my face under his jaw, and straddled his lap.

‘Donavyn.’

‘I’m here.’

Then he lifted his chin and gently tugged my head back by my hair as he met my eyes with his own reddened gaze. His throat bobbed, and when he spoke, his voice was torn as if he’d been shouting. “Stay alive.”

I gave a sob that was half-laugh, half-weep. “I will. But you have to—”

“I’m yours, Bren…” he rasped, his eyes shining and intense. My body, still thrumming with my release, my pulse picked back up. “Yours. Utterly. Only yours. Make certain you come back to me.”

I didn’t have words to meet the look in his eyes, so I took his face in my hands and kissed him.

We held each other tightly for a long minute then, reluctantly, slowly, finally separated.

He followed me into the bathing room and, despite my protests, helped me wash, then dry, then took my hand and led me back to the bedchamber.

Nothing felt real as I donned a clean pair of leathers, and three sheathed blades. As I threw other fresh leathers into a bag, I caught sight of the vials Terra had given me. I couldn’t see how they would be important to a flight home, but I left them in the bag, then after a moment, shoved one of the vials into the pocket of my leathers, just in case.