Page 125 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

“That cannot be arranged.” He smirked and gave my ass a couple of pats.

“Why?”

“Akrai,” he practically groaned. “You are not the quietest, nor are we the most . . . gentle. Do you wish to cave in an entire tavern full of . . .”

Samkiel’s words trailed off as I raised my shirt and placed it over his head. He moaned, and the heat of his breath washed over my bare breasts, making my nipples tighten.

“This is cheating.” I felt his lips brush the sensitive skin between my breasts.

I giggled as I pressed his face between my breasts. “I never said I played fair.”

“This is coercion,” was his muffled response, and I knew I’d won.

Samkiel pulled my tank top off and grinned at me before he gripped my thighs and stood, tossing me over his shoulder. I squealed and was sure the whole tavern heard. He chuckled devilishly and swatted my upturned ass as he strode toward the bathroom.

“Quiet, Dianna. Or I will have to put something in your mouth to make you quiet.”

Oh, my man was in a mood, and I loved it.

FORTY-NINE

ROCCUREM

Another squeal came from above, followed by the splash of water hitting the floor. Logan’s cobalt gaze remained fixed on a spot across the room. Seeing them up close, I was utterly aware of how wrong Dianna was that they no longer contained any spark of life. I felt it as a small drum sounded in a vast valley. It was a whispered call for help, so far out of reach.

“Are they always like this?” the elf Orym from Flagerun asked as he entered the study.

I turned from the window and regarded him, slowly sipping my tea. His hands were in the pockets of the smooth, black attire Samkiel had acquired for all of them—a new set of clothes for his wayward allies. Orym’s tail swished, and he glanced toward the ceiling.

“The lack of their mark forms a hollow ache. It is a desire to be completed. Mated pairs usually settle after the mark has sealed, but until then, they tend to mate furiously. It’s natural. Nature demands its completion and seeks to seal their souls.”

Orym’s gaze landed on me with a flash of pain. I placed the teacup on the small coaster Miska had found. “You think of your lost mate, yes? That emptiness as well. It’s not jealousy that marks your words, but pain.”

He sat with a huff, placing one long leg across the arm of the chair. “You really are a fate.”

“That I am.” I nodded and gave him a small smile, hoping to put him at ease. “You should enjoy their copulation.”

His face turned up in disgust. “Excuse me?”

“It is far better than what they used to do. What the universe demands.”

Orym’s death glare eased as he glanced up, the sounds from above gaining in intensity. His tail swished from side to side.

“And what did they used to do?”

“Try to destroy each other.”

He huffed a laugh. “Sorry, that seems hard to believe. Since I’ve met them, they can barely keep their hands off each other.”

A grunt echoed from above, followed by more water sloshing. This time, a dark spot formed on the ceiling.

“It wasn’t always such. There was even a period of time I assumed she would win.”

“Win? Kill him?” Orym’s throat bobbed. “You think she could beat him? The actual World Ender?”

I raised one leg, crossing it over the other. “Absolutely. Dianna’s power stems from a part of her she gained from a complete loss of control. It is angry and dark and the definition of wrath. She could burn the very stars from the heavens if she wished. Her power is old, very old, and so is her anger. At times, it is evil.”

The room grew thick with tension and unease. I saw the knowledge in Orym’s eyes and knew my words were only a confirmation of what he had already sensed.

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