Page 66 of Death Will Follow

But then, she yielded.

To the inevitability of him. Of them. To the unceasing pull of a tide she would drown in, happily. A notion at once terrifying and comforting: She wasn’t alone. She never would be again.

Sensing the change in her, Callan pulled away, bracing himself above her and giving her room to move. Nova rolled onto her stomach on the bed of soft moss. Burying his fingers in her hair, Callan tugged lightly before his hands roamed down her body, throwing the fabric of her cloak aside and pulling at her waistband until she was bared to him.

His hands left her, and Nova shot a glance over her shoulder to find him swiftly undoing his laces. A needy whine escaped her as he slid his shaft along her slit before lining up the head at her entrance. When he hesitated—holding back—Nova begged.

Please.

Whether she’d spoken the word aloud or in his mind, Callan heard her plea and entered her all at once, stretching her to take every bit of him.

“Gods, Nova.”

Her name fell from his lips like a prayer murmured at the altar of her body. He lowered himself onto her, the full weight of him pinning her in place as he kept his cock sheathed within her, rocking his hips with slow thrusts. Her release built with every nudge against the deepest part of her.

“Do you see how desperate I am to bow down before you?” Callan asked between grazing bites and soft kisses planted on the back of her neck. “To touch you? Gently, roughly—however you want? To protect you and devour you all at once?”

Nova nodded jerkily, soft moss brushing against her cheek, and tilted her hips as much as her position would allow. Callan’s astonished “fuck” as he sank even deeper ignited her, and she pressed back into him, her climax rippling along her tensed limbs before she went slack under him. A final deep thrust had Callan spilling himself inside her, his face buried in the crook of her neck. Several minutes passed, the sweat cooling on the surface of her skin, before he rolled off of her, propping himself on one elbow to tuck himself into his breeches.

Nova twisted onto her side, reaching out languidly to stroke his jaw, hidden under a scruffy beard. His necklace had fallen loose from his collar while they’d rutted on the ground like beasts. Her eyes followed the spinning silver medallion etched with the Eye of Brumal as it dangled above her. Suddenly, she grasped the pendant in her hand and sat up to inspect it more closely.

“What’s the matter?” Callan asked, still out of breath, dipping his chin to look at the talisman lying flat in her palm.

Distractedly, she repeated the words the sprite had spoken outside the burial mound.

“Someone has their eye on you.”

Twenty-Six

Nova righted herself, hastily cleaning away the evidence of their coupling and drawing up her breeches. Callan remained on his knees, one brow raised as he awaited an explanation.

“Twice we’ve been targeted by dark creatures on this journey, though few knew of our plans beforehand,” Nova began.

Callan nodded.

“When I exited the burial mound, the sprite who helped guide my way told me someone has their eye on me.”

Callan pinched his necklace between his fingers and held it out from his chest to inspect it.

“I’m warned of a watchful eye. You wear a medallion emblazoned with one,” Nova went on. “You’ve never worn that charm before now. Certainly, that can’t be a coincidence. Who gave this to you?”

Callan shook his head slowly, seemingly transfixed by the silver pendant. “It was Liv. She gave one to Thorn as well. The symbol, it represents protection.” His voice held a hint of disbelief, but his dark eyes narrowed as understanding washed over him.

With a sharp tug, he snapped the silver chain and cast the necklace into the dense forest.

“From the moment I met her, my intuition has flickered.” Callan stood and quickly tied his laces. “To think she’s endeared herself to my uncle so completely, conspiring against me and my mate all along.”

“What is her aim?” Nova asked. “What does she gain from being in league with Omen?”

“I don’t know,” Callan replied, his jaw tight.

Nova knew that look well. His mind was humming, attempting to make sense of the revelation.

“A viper—that’s what Thorn called you. Accused me of bringing a viper to his hearth while one slept beside him each night.” He paced beside her with halting steps, fists clenched at his sides.

“We can’t be certain it’s Liv,” Nova offered, taking his hands in hers and pulling him close in an attempt to calm him. “You rid yourself of the charm. Perhaps that is enough. I fear neither of us is thinking clearly.” She gestured vaguely around them, hinting at the invisible wyld magic that would see them abandon all reason. Lose themselves in emotion. “We need to get out of Maedwen. Then we can make sense of this.”

Callan nodded firmly. “You’re right, love. Come—let’s return to the others. It’s high time we bid the Spring Court farewell.”