Page 27 of The Brute and the Blade

It seems to go on forever, the two of us locked together in an endless loop of give and take, pleasure and possession. But finally, blessedly, the storm passes, leaving us limp and trembling in its wake, our hearts thundering in synchronized tandem.

I gather Lily close with hands that shake, burying my face in the damp silk of her hair and just breathing her in, letting her scent, her essence, fill my lungs and settle into my very bones. She sighs softly, her arms twining around my neck, her lips pressing tiny, fluttering kisses to the sweat-slick skin of my throat.

For a long, perfect moment, there's no sound but the crackle of the fire, the rasp of our mingled breath. No world beyond the warm nest of furs and flesh we've made, the consummation of something bone-deep and soul-bright.

Something inevitable, undeniable...like the pull of the tides, the turning of the stars.

"I love you," I breathe against her temple, the words soft and fervent, barely more than a whisper. "Lily Thornwood, my heart, my home...I love you, with everything I am, everything I will ever be."

She goes still against me, her breath catching audibly. For a long, terrible moment, she's silent, frozen...and I feel my chest seize with sudden, icy dread, sure that I've ruined everything, shattered everything, with my reckless confession, my unbridled need.

But then she's pulling back to cup my face in her hands, her eyes huge and luminous in the firelight, brimming with a tender, awestruck wonder that steals the very breath from my lungs.

"And you are my king," she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion. "I've got you, Grok. I'm here. I'm here..."

I swallow hard against the sudden ache in my throat, the burn of tears behind my eyes. She hasn't said the words, the precious, fragile truth beating like hummingbird wings against the cage of my ribs...but she doesn't need to.

I can see it in her eyes, feel it in the way she holds me, touches me, like I'm something rare and precious, something infinitely cherished.

Something...loved. Wholly and completely, beyond reason, beyond rhyme. Beyond fear and doubt and the yawning chasm of all that divides us.

Just like I love her, I think fiercely, reverently. Just like I will alwayslove her, come flame or flood, trial or tempest.

No matter the cost. No matter the consequences.

Slowly, gingerly, I ease out of her, my softening flesh slipping from the hot clasp of her body. She makes a bereft little sound at the loss, a sound that twists like a blade in my chest...but I soothe her with a rumble of reassurance, a soft kiss pressed to the furrow between her brows.

She sighs, a small, contented sound, and burrows deeper into my embrace, her cheek coming to rest against the thunder of my heart. I wrap my arms around her, marveling at how small she is, how delicate...and yet how perfectly she fits against me, with me, like two halves of a shattered whole finally pieced back together.

"Stay," I whisper against her throat, a part of me still terrified that she'll slip away, that she'll vanish like mist beneath the morning sun. "Stay with me, Lily. Don't...don't leave me. Please."

I feel her smile against my skin, her lashes fluttering soft as moth wings over the corded column of my throat. "I'm not going anywhere," she murmurs, and though a part of me knows it's a pretty lie, a soothing platitude...I cling to it anyway, needing the comfort, the conviction, of her promise. "I'm yours, Grok. For as long as you want me, for as long as you need me...I'll be right here. I promise.”

My arms tighten around her, a shudder rolling through me at the quiet intensity, the unflinching certainty in her voice. I want to believe her, I realize. I want to believe, with every fiber of my being, that she means it, that she'll stay...

That she'll choose me, us, over the pull of her duty, her destiny. That she'll defy fate and fortune, the yawning chasm of all that divides us...and build a life, a love, here in the circle of my arms, the shelter of our furs.

But I know better. I know her better, my fierce, unfettered mate, with her wild heart and her unyielding sense of honor. She'll never be content to stay here, caged and cloistered, while her people cry out for her, while her homeland crumbles beneath the ogre onslaught.

She'll never be able to rest, to be truly happy, until she's out there fighting for what she believes in, bleeding for those who cannot defend themselves.

Until she's fulfilled her oath, her calling...even if it means tearing herself from my arms, shattering both our hearts in the process.

The knowledge is a bitter draught, a cold stone in my gut...but I swallow it down anyway, letting it settle like lead in my veins. If this is all I can have of her, these snatched moments out of time, this brief, blazing now...

Then I'll take it. I'll hold it close and cherish it, imprint it on my very soul...and pray to any gods that might listen that someday, somehow, I'll find a way to keep her, to claim her, beyond this night, this need.

That someday...she'll be mine, truly and completely. In body and breath and blood, in heart and hope and home.

Mine, I think fiercely, savagely, as I press my lips to her hair, her brow, breathing in the sweet, precious scent of her. Mine to hold, mine to have...

Mine to love, with everything I am, everything I will ever be.

It's a vow, a covenant, etched into my marrow, my soul. A promise I'll keep, an oath I'll honor...even if it damns me, destroys me.

Even if it rips me asunder and leaves me bleeding, broken, in the wake of her loss, her leaving.

My queen. My mate.

---