Page 64 of Ashborne Forged

Leaving behind everything but the scent of Grace, the sensation of her delight in my chest, and the animalistic groan of pleasure when I finally took her to ground and buried myself in her.

I closed my mind to thoughts of tomorrow, or duty, or the hardships we would face.

It could all fucking wait.

21. New World

~ VOSKI ~

The clang of metal on stone. A distant shout. And the groan of a nearby dragon.

My instincts prickled, but I swam out of sleep slowly, inhaling as I stretched. Without opening my eyes, I smiled. I was curled around the warm curves of my mate, the blankets creating a pocket of heat and scent and comfort I was loath to open to cold, or scrutiny.

But my senses niggled. Something wasn’t quite right.

Nuzzling her neck, I lifted the arm around Grace’s waist to stretch, deliciously weary from chasing her late into the night, then both of us sneaking back, evading notice all the way back to her loft, once it was late enough to avoid foot-traffic in the stables. She slipped through shadows like a cat. She was stunning. And terrifying. And mine.

Grace sighed and shifted, but didn’t wake, so I resisted the temptation to kiss her skin and trail a hand up her leg. She needed the sleep, and it was still early enough that—

“What the hell are you doing?” a feminine voice hissed.

With a jolt, I snapped my head up, eyes open and searching the half-dark of the loft, where the only light came in lines through the wall-slats.

I blinked three times, trying to make sense of the black silhouette of half a person, peering out of the floor. That made no sense—until Bren pushed up the rest of the ladder and stood at its top, dressed in flying leathers, fists on her hips, glaring at me.

Gesturing to her for quiet as Grace rolled over, I took the opportunity to push up and away, tucking the blankets around her and crawling carefully out of the bed to let her remain asleep.

I forgot I was naked.

Bren’s eyes went wide, then narrowed and she whirled to put her back to me, folding her arms. If her braid had been a cat’s tail, it would have bristled.

My heart pounded. But Grace was miraculously still asleep, and I wouldn’t let her be disturbed. Snatching up my discarded leathers, I covered myself and trotted silently to Bren’s back, to breathe in her ear.

“Downstairs. Don’t you dare wake her.”

My sister shot me a dark look over her shoulder, but took hold of the ladder like it had offended her, and turned to trot down it, carefully averting her eyes from me.

The moment she was out of sight, I yanked on my leathers and boots, then threw the shirt and jacket over my arm to hurry down the ladder after her.

I was only paces behind her when I reached the bottom and pulled the sleeve of my shirt up one arm, then the other as I chased after her, hissing so my voice wouldn’t echo in the loft.

“Where are you going?”

Bren froze, checked over her shoulder that I was covered, then turned back, storming toward me, pointing an accusing finger.

“I can’t believe this. Of all of them, I thought you were the one who’d never cross that line. You said nothing happened between you two! You told everyone—”

“Nothing had happened when I said that,” I growled. “But I was in denial.”

“Denial of being a self-serving rake?” she snapped.

“No, Bren, denial of my mate. I’d think you of all people would understand how disconcerting it is to discover a matebond.”

“Mate?!” She stopped a few paces from me, stunned—and furious. “Mate?! You said you hadn’t touched her!”

“I hadn’t.”

“You said you weren’t even drawn—”