Page 103 of The Seeker

Even though we’d been together like this before, it still felt just as amazing as the first time, and my legs came up to wrap around his backside, urging him deeper.

“You like that?” he asked in a low tone.

I nodded before realizing he couldn’t see me. “Yes,” my voice wavered, which only spurred him to thrust faster.

“Hel, Runa, do you feel what you do to me?” He reached for my hand, pressing it to his chest, where I could feel his heart racing, like it was trying to pound right out of his ribcage.

“You do the same to me,” I replied, moving our joined hands to my chest.

His mouth went to my nipple then, sucking, as his hand delved between us, pressing against my clit.

The combination of sensations was enough for me to find my second orgasm, and I came with a shout, my walls gripping him as he increased the pace of his thrusts.

“Runa!” Otho yelled as he found his own release, his sweaty hair brushing my face as we both panted and his cock twitched inside of me.

He gently extracted himself, pulling me into his chest. He was silent for a while, so quiet I would have thought he’d fallen asleep if it weren’t for his uneven breaths.

“I’m afraid this means you’re going to have to sever the bond again.” I could hear the hurt in his voice, but I didn’t feel it brushing against my gift.

“Did you start taking belladonna?” I asked, avoiding the other topic for now.

“No, why?”

“I can’t feel your emotions. I haven’t been able to for a while.”

“Well . . .” He paused, probably running his hands through his hair. “I worked to build a wall around the bond. I didn’t want you to feel compelled to be with me when we were around. I love you, Runa, but I realized I only want you to want me of your own free will. Not because a magical bond is forcing you.”

My chest warmed and my eyes prickled with unshed tears. “I still felt something when I saw you—the other day, I mean. Not your emotions, but not nothing either.”

“Me too.” His hand gripped mine. “The weighted bond is a strong one, even behind a wall.”

“You can say that again.” I yawned, and Otho rose from the bed, moving about the room. A random thought bubbled up in my mind. “Do I have to call you ‘my Prince’ now?”

Otho chuckled from across the room, “No, that’s never been my title. Just Otho is fine.” Then he was back with a cloth, cleaning us both up. I moved to help him, but he stopped me. “Sleep now, Runa.”

And I did.

I woke the next day with a groan, the room still pitch black, thanks to the fact that it had no windows. “Otho?” I asked, my hand reaching for him only to find his side of the bed cold.

I wondered if I would ever manage to wake before him.

Rising from bed, I debated trying to feel for a source of light, but in the end, I decided my time was better spent searching for my clothes. I had no idea how much of the day I’d slept away, and I knew Askel, Emmett, and Cyr would be missing my help in the garden.

The door creaked open, tossing a sliver of light in the room from the sconces in the hall. “Look who’s finally awake.”

“Don’t remind me.” I groaned. “Askel will have my hide if I miss too much of the gardening today.”

There was shuffling, then Otho lit a candle on a table, sliding a glass over it to cast the light brighter. There hadn’t been time—or light—to take in the room the night before, so I did now, taking notice of the military precision with which Otho stored everything. His uniforms hung equal distances apart on the wardrobe beam mounted on the wall, and the wooden desk where the candle rested only featured an inkwell, single plume, and one parchment. The only other thing in the room was the bed I was reclining on, the book he had given me last night resting on the floor with my clothes.

And Otho, with a breakfast tray held in his hands.

I squinted at what it contained.

“Eggs and bacon and fruit,” he explained, sitting down next to me and placing the tray over our collective laps. “I had to go to the palace for it. The barrack’s cook left during the war.”

While I hoped there would never be a war again, I still worried about the idea of an empty barracks, especially considering the fact that I’d basically declared war on my cousin. “What will happen if someone . . . attacks?”

“My father is sending some guards. It was honestly a good thing I saw him; he helped me plan a lot.” He sighed, reaching for one of the forks and handing me the other. “With no forced conscription and the losses we faced, there isn’t anyone left.”