Page 14 of Death Will Follow

“Tell me, love.” He released a shaky breath. “What do you know about claiming?” His heart drummed against her chest through his tunic, and the swell of his cock pressed against her abdomen.

“A bit.” She swallowed. “I studied it.”

“Of course you did. I’d expect nothing less from that remarkable mind of yours.” He flashed an affectionate smile before a crease formed between his brows. “And what did your books tell you?”

“I believe there are verbal and physical requirements.” Nova rolled her hips against his erection. She was being coy; she’d discovered that in order to claim a bond, it was customary to swear an oath to one’s mate, followed by coupling.

Callan’s eyes fell shut, and he clenched his jaw, drawing a deep breath in through his nose before schooling his features into a serious expression.

“Do you understand what that would mean? If I claim you—” His breath caught, the prospect clearly an exciting one. “I will be bonded to you for the rest of my days.”

“I understand,” she said.

He cupped her face gently with one hand. “Are you certain you want that? Are you certain you want me?” His dark eyes scanned hers, as if searching for any flicker of doubt.

“I’ve never been more certain of anything. Are you cer—”

“Yes. Even if you never claim the bond, Nova,” Callan nodded soberly. “I want this. I want you.”

“What would happen? If I never claimed it?”

“It would be . . .” Callan’s gaze fell to her mouth, then her chest, rising and falling with short, quick breaths. “Unpleasant. But it’s no matter.”

Callan was no more capable of lying than any Fae, but Nova knew he was skirting the truth. She’d researched the subject of mating bonds extensively. If Callan claimed the bond and she never reciprocated, it would be incredibly painful, emotionally and physically.

His eyes found hers once again, a hopeful smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Tell me you want me, love, and I’ll swear my oath to you this very moment.”

Nova nodded eagerly. “Yes. I want you, Callan.” Her ridiculous grin was back.

Callan’s smile vanished, his other hand sliding up her neck until he cradled her face in both hands. When he spoke, his voice was no longer a hushed murmur. His words rang out in the enclosed space, loud and clear, unconcerned with the proximity of the males collecting their horses on the other side of the flimsy door.

“I claim you, Nova Elsever, as my bonded mate. I vow to be your shield and your blade. To worship you and protect you. But, above all else, I vow to love you for all the days of my life.”

A pleasant warmth spread through her body as he pressed his lips to hers, sealing his oath. Then, his fingers found the clasp of her cloak, and the heavy fabric slipped from her shoulders, pooling in the straw at her feet.

Callan pulled away and rubbed his thumb over the hollow below her bottom lip before taking a step back. Nova cursed the small distance separating them, skin hot, her veins suddenly flooded with desperate need for him.

He wore a serious expression as he tugged at each finger of his leather gloves, removing them and dropping them to the floor.

“Now, love, turn and face the wall.”

Her breath hitched. Eagerly following his instructions, she turned from him, anticipation tingling in her lips and the tips of her fingers.

The heat of his body enveloped her as he stepped forward to stand directly behind her. Taking her hands gently by the wrists, he raised her arms over her head and laid her palms flat on the wall. A contented sigh escaped her as he nested his chest to her back, nuzzling his nose below her ear. She allowed him to position her further, leaning her forward until her cheek rested against the wall as well. His hands glided down her sides, reaching in front of her and deftly undoing the laces of her breeches. Then, he shoved them down to her knees and backed away, his warmth abandoning her, leaving her exposed.

Cold air danced over the surface of her skin, and she flushed with the thrill of not being able to see him. Of not knowing what he planned to do. Behind her, Callan sucked in a breath through his teeth. An instant later, his warm hands were on her, sweeping smoothly over her ass and the backs of her thighs. Then they were gone. Nova pressed her hips back, seeking heat. Seeking friction.

“Don’t—” Callan’s command filled the space, sharp and sudden, and Nova stilled. She heard him swallow hard in the heavy silence that followed. “Don’t move,” he finished, voice tight. Restrained.

“All this time,” he continued, words measured, “I’ve fought to keep my mind occupied. Only now, with you spread before me, do I see how starved I’ve been.”

A solid thud. His knees hitting the straw-covered floor.

“You’re mine, aren’t you, Nova?” Callan asked, his breath deliciously close and hot on her skin as his lips ghosted along the back of her left thigh. His fingers curled at her hips, gripping her firmly.

“Yes,” she answered, her voice little more than a moan. “Only yours.”

“And I cherish what’s mine.”