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Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, magnifying the blue wring of desire that never seemed to fade.
“Whoever I am,” Veyka breathed, her lips a trembling invitation, “I choose you.”
It wasn’t a full declaration of love. But it was damned close.
I crushed her against me, not caring about the paint. Let it mix and blend, like we were blending together. Every day, every little bit she gave freely… we were becoming one.
Her mouth was warm and soft, but her tongue made insistent demands. Curving around mine, burrowing into my mouth and claiming me for her own. I belonged to her every bit as much as she belonged to me. I didn’t know where I ended and she began—didn’t need to.
Her hands slid up over my shoulders, pushing away the clothing she’d already half removed. She arched against me, her body desperately seeking connection. Damn those tight leather leggings she wore—they were so much harder to push aside than the flowing garments she’d worn at the elemental court.
I needed to be with her in every way. Her mouth ravaging mine, my cock buried inside of her. My mate—I needed my mate desperately
One frenzied hand dropped from my chest, between us—she was ripping away at the ties of her leggings. But before she could get them done, an explosion rocked the world around us.
The world went horizontal. I shoved Veyka to the ground, covering her with my body, ready to die to protect her. Always.
She was shaking beneath me. Ancestors, even here we weren’t safe. Fear and—
She was laughing.
Veyka was laughing, her entire body convulsing with the force of it. Rubbing her legs against me, her breasts, her pussy. I was confused and hard and an inch from death.
She grabbed my hair, tugging me down closer so our lips nearly touched.
“Fireworks,” she chuckled.
Fireworks. Explosions of color in the midnight sky. It must be midnight.
I shook my head, trying to clear the protective instincts. Veyka was way ahead of me. She fisted one hand in my hair, the other digging into the muscles of my shoulder, dragging me down to meet her mouth.
I kissed her hard, let my body sink down into her.
We were by no means alone—any of the humans could have happened upon us. It did not matter. All that did was the sanctity of the moment.
But it was not a human who interrupted us.
It was Lyrena—huffing, out of breath, her hood thrown back and bright eyes wild. She appeared from between the booths, weapons already in hand.
“I’m sorry to break up… whatever this is. Or was going to be. But Percival is about to get himself killed.”
51
VEYKA
If we managed to extricate him, I’d kill Percival myself.
Lyrena led us through the tangle of booths and humans, her steps quick but not hurried. We couldn’t draw undue attention to ourselves or we’d have a whole other problem to deal with.
After five minutes, she swore under her breath and ducked between a row of booths. We had to climb over the detritus the humans left behind in setting up their stalls, but at least we weren’t face to face with the hordes.
Arran lengthened his stride to catch up with Lyrena.
“Details.” A commander’s order.
The diligent lieutenant gave her report. “He’s been trying to slip away all night. I recognized it immediately. Trying to ply me with wine, getting me to play the games at the booths, introducing me to humans. He knows a lot of people here. A lot. Dozens. I kept him close. But the bastard got the better of me,” Lyrena scowled.
I nearly fell over. It was the crate of human shit that caught me up, of course. Not my surprise.
