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“Olympia.”
She ceased her protests as I said her name. For long moments, I simply gazed down at her pale form on my quilt.
Her presence made my heart thud oddly, as though my blood was made of thick, syrupy honey. I traced every inch of her profile, from the scattered copper curls to the flush and freckles on her cheeks, to the generous curves of her nibbled lips.
Mine.
It was exceptionally hard to keep my Alpha at bay. My spirit sang songs of ownership when I was with Olympia.
“Yes?” she ventured when I didn’t continue. Her fingers found a strand of hair on my cheek and tucked it back behind my ears.
“I don’t care what our people will say,” I began, placing my forehead against hers. “Nothing matters more than how I feel when I’m with you. We will lead kingdoms together, in peace and in strife. Your place is by my side, as mine is at your feet.”
Pink lips parted in a breathy gasp. Her eyes searched my own, and I could only hope that she saw the unbridled longing in my soul.
“You will have me as your mate.”
Damn it all, I hadn’t meant for the request to resonate like an order! My fingers fisted in the sheets as I tried to keep the regret contained.
Olly’s puff of laughter was a balm against my heated skin.
“Are you asking or telling me?” she questioned, a corner of her lips quirking upwards in an impish way.
“Telling,” I said automatically, before adjusting my response. “Asking, I mean.”
“It seems you can’t control your true intentions,” Olly teased, brushing her lips against mine in a fleeting caress. It was much too short to be satisfying.
“I hesitate to say yes before this business with Cryssa has been put to rest,” she murmured. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“I don’t care,” I breathed recklessly. “I need to hear you say it, Olly. Say that you’re mine.”
Her fingers raked through my hair, holding me still and steady.
“I am yours, Zoei Highblade,” she whispered. “Whether I say it aloud or not, my soul belongs to you.”
My Alpha’s howl was deafening as ecstasy roared in my veins.
“Be my mate.” The gruffness of my voice would have made another person hesitate.
Olly only chuckled, wrapping her legs around my waist and holding me close.
“Yes.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Zoei
“Well, look who’s finally back from her little holiday.”
Pyke’s chipper tone traveled across the balcony. I turned to watch them saunter over with the untaxed gait of a third royal child. They had chosen muted colors today—a decadent deep blue that brought out the browns in their skin. The fabric clung to their chest and billowed around their hips, creating the illusion of a stately figure.
Gold adorned their throat, wrists, and ankles, catching the last light of the day.
I refused to rise to their verbal bait. Instead, I turned back to the rose gardens, watching the scene that played out in front of me.
“I wouldn’t call beinghunteda holiday, Pyke,” I said when they joined me at the railing.
They shrugged. “Still. Being able to take a break from your usual list of duties must have been nice.”
