Page 91 of Sight of Fate

“Horde?”

Teague stares down at his glass. “Vampires used to have a king. Pretty fair one too. But like many aristocracies and systems built with one ruler, factions popped up, tore it down. Vampire warlords emerged. It was a brutal time. It decimated the gargoyle population because we were one of the few armies who stood against them.” He sighs. “Tired of it all, we left Ireland and came here. Andros came with us.”

Listening to him talk about creatures and wars I’ve never heard of reminds me how different our worlds have been. It’s a miracle we ever found each other.

“Is Greystone what you thought it would be?” I ask, having some inkling of how it feels to leave everything familiar.

“All our lives were spent in the service of the gargoyle army. It was both a privilege and a duty. Greystone gave us the freedom to dream. To build something for ourselves and others which would not have been possible in our old lives,” he says, his eyes shining with pride.

He looks at me. “What do you think of Greystone?”

“My first vision changed my world, and after that, I never felt comfortable anywhere. Too afraid someone would find out,” I admit, then shrug. “I feel like I fit in here. That I don’t need to hide myself or what I can do. Greystone also gives me the freedom to dream and build something I never thought would be possible. Thanks to you and Macklin and Andros.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

CHARLI

Sterling blue-grey eyes light up with emotion when he hears my words, as if he needed to hear I could build a life in Greystone. Honestly, I was afraid to admit how much I wanted to stay and create a life here until this minute, but I’m tired of running and having no roots. This is where I belong. Raine’s vision of me. My visions of them. I’m meant to be here.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes, hearing my silent realization through our bond.

His mouth descends, capturing my lips in a sensuous kiss full of depth and a vulnerability Teague doesn’t often show. I fall into it, into him, letting go of my fears and the barriers holding me back from committing to him. I want to be his mate in the fullest sense of the word.

Diving into his kiss, I trail my fingers across his broad shoulders until I reach his shirt. Unbuttoning it, I slide my hands inside and over the strong muscles of his chest, wanting to touch him and claim what’s mine. My fingers dance down his chest to his abs, where I trace the lines I’ve secretly drooled over.

He shifts restlessly beneath me and pulls my mouth from his. “Your hands feel so good.”

I tilt my head. “Hmm, it’s only the beginning.”

He traces the shell of my ear. “I’m guessing you have something in mind?”

I carefully unbutton my blouse and part the gold silk shirt, baring myself to him.

He pulls in a sharp breath. “Stunning. I’m a lucky bastard to have an incredible woman like you as my mate.” His hands trail lightly across my collarbone, then down between my breasts.

I take a deep breath. “The shirt stays on. No touching my back under it.” I’m not ready to show him or anyone else yet.

“Deal,” he rasps. “How far do you want to take this?”

I arch my body, pressing my breasts into his wandering hands, and whisper, “All the way. I want you. Inside me.”

He cups my face with his hands and stares into my eyes. “Why?”

“I want to seal our bond,” I reply, never more sure of anything in my life.

His eyes close. “Say it again.”

“You’re mine, and I’m yours. I don’t want to wake up another day without knowing you’re here. A part of me, my soul intertwined with yours.” I reach down and grab the hem of his sweater. Pulling it off in one move, I settle my hands on his body. “I want to touch you, taste you, do all the things I’ve dreamed of doing.”

His mouth crashes down on mine, demanding and dominant, but instead of shrinking, I meet his kiss with the confidence that’s been building since the day I met him. Scoring my nails lightly down his chest, I lightly flick his nipple, wondering if it’s as sensitive as mine. His indrawn breath tells me it is.

He scoops me up and carries me into the bedroom. He lays me on the bed and gives a low chuckle. “I’m nervous.” When I raise an eyebrow, he lifts a self-conscious shoulder. “I’ve waited centuries for this moment, but all I want is to make sure it’s perfect for you.”

I smile. “You make me ache every time you look at me like you can’t wait to touch or taste me.”

He groans and spreads my legs open, then stands at the foot of the bed and stares down at me with hooded eyes. “Seeing you here in my bed, feet clad in those strappy gold heels and little else…I promise, I want to fucking devour you.”

A wave of lust and awe and a craving so fierce it takes my breath away sweeps over me, and I moan.