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“Stellan.” The name echoed through the empty court.

His control cracked.

I said it louder as he drove into me faster, his fingers digging into my thighs while his cock filled me again and again.

His hand slid between us.

His fingers circled my clit, then he caught my jaw and kissed me. His fangs pressed against my lower lip while his thrusts stayed hard.

My climax hit hard. I cried into his mouth and tightened around him. He thrust twice more, buried himself deep and came with a rough curse against my lips.

We stayed together while my breathing slowed. Stellan rested his forehead against mine. His hands remained firm on my thighs, holding me in place without asking for anything else.

“Still furious?” he asked.

“Yes. The sex was excellent. Your plan was still bloody awful.”

His mouth brushed mine. “A good fuck doesn’t wipe anything clean. Be angry for as long as you need. Just don’t lie to me about wanting me.”

The chain at his waist gave a small scrape across the floor.

I looked past him. “That isn’t entirely your decision.”

Stellan followed my gaze to the iron running back to the dais. “Harrowmere and I have disagreed before.”

“How did that work out?”

“You found me chained under a house.”

I laughed despite myself. He kissed me once, softer this time, then pulled out and helped me down from the throne.

We dressed without hurry. Stellan used what remained of his shirt to clean the blood from his chest, leaving the tattoos and old scars exposed. The fresh cuts at his throat had closed, although the collar still sat against the damaged skin.

I picked up the sword. “Can you reach Cecily’s room?”

“The waist chain stops me at the broken wall,” he said.

I touched the loose iron at his throat. “And this one?”

“It runs to the throne, but Harrowmere gave it more length when you suspended the sentence. It will follow me into the passage.”

“Then we deal with the waist chain next.” I picked up the sword.

He looked towards the hole he’d torn through the wall. “After you.”

I walked across the throne room. Stellan stayed close behind me until the waist chain tightened. Iron scraped over stone, and his steps stopped.

The broken entrance to Cecily’s room waited less than a metre away.

I turned. “You lost all that progress getting through the wall.”

“Every inch,” he said.

“Any regrets?”

His gaze moved over my face. “None.”

I held out my hand. “Then try again.”