Page 44 of King of Pride and Talons

The remaining inhabitants didn't exactly erupt in applause, but he knew they were gracious. A few women cried out in agonized relief while others fell to their knees, crying toward the skies with a moving show of solace.

“There will never be a time when you are hungry or enslaved. You will reap the rewards of Bawold and its prosperity. I promise you as King.”

The cheer grew more animated. Then, Breya slumped against his chest, and Thorne motioned at Vale to take hold of the crowd’s attention.

“Start organizing the hungry and the unhoused as much as you can,” he said, holding Breya by the shoulders. "I'm taking her back to the castle. I will send over helpers when I get there."

Vale, the ever-loyal stoic-faced servant of the kingdom, was moved. He bowed his head not only at Thorne but also at Breya. He could have sworn he spotted tears dampening his eyes.

“Thank you,” he muttered, fixating on Breya, “for what you’ve done. This is remarkable."

She looked tired, and the king scooped her into his arms.

“My King,” she said, grinning. “I have two feet."

He chuckled. He was worn out in a way he hadn't felt in ages. But he was happy, possibly for the first time in his life.

“You can't heal them all at once," he said softly, walking in the direction of the fading sunset. “It's going to take some time. But I know that this is your calling. Your fate."

She nestled into his chest as she had a dozen times before. She then spoke into the cooling air, languid yet firm.

“Fate. Time. You have to mark me now, right? That’s what I want. I want to be yours. Make me yours, my love."

His lion roared loudly within him, making him feel like he could float off into the tapestry of flickering the dusk with his beloved safe and cradled in his arms.

TWENTY-FOUR

BREYA

When they reached the castle, they barely made it to the bedroom door before Thorne slid his hands under her clothes. His hands were warm and insistent as he pulled her shirt over her head. The edge of the mattress hit her knees as he laid her back, bringing his mouth to her exposed skin.

He pressed heated kisses and nips across the plane of her stomach, stopping at the swell of her breast. He palmed one, sliding his hand around it and shaping it with an intention so explicit it stole Breya’s breath.

The cool fabric of his silk shirt brushed against her sensitized skin, his broad chest pressing into her as he bent over, the edges of their closeness blurring. Breya could feel his warm breath wafting over her skin, making her ache with an untamed desire.

He discarded his clothes in a quick, fluid motion and hovered above her once more. The golden glow of the dancing firelight added an ethereal beauty to his muscled torso and highlighted each line and ridge of his powerful body. His gaze was an aching promise. Breya’s breath hitched.

His fingers traced the tender curve of her breast and without warning, he took one hardened nipple into his mouth. The fervor in his actions made Breya’s every nerve ending spark life beneath him. His tongue swirled around it in sinful circles, igniting a heat within her that began to consume all thought and reason.

The sensation was intense. It felt like all Breya’s senses were being drawn into that one point of contact. Her fingers dug into the firm expanse of his bicep, anchoring her while also pulling him closer, silently begging for more of this intoxicating torture.

He switched to the other side, maintaining a rhythm that had Breya writhing beneath him.

His tongue traced a languid circle around its peak, causing a jolt of pleasure to ripple through her. Her fingers wound through his hair, urging him closer, deeper, into the heart of her desire.

He obliged, replacing his hand with his mouth and freeing the other breast from its lace confinement. The sensation of his warm tongue was replaced with the cool castle air hitting her heated skin. She wiggled beneath him, her legs tangling with his in a desperate bid to bring him closer.

His heated gaze seemed to scorch every inch of exposed skin, making her burn with desire. His mouth followed where his eyes had ventured - kissing, biting, tasting - until every part of Breya was branded by his touch. His lips traveled lower, trailing a path of goose bumps and sharp intakes of breath down her belly and onto her thighs.

She traced her fingers over the sinewed planes of his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under her palm. His breath hitched when her hands ventured lower. She could feel the heat radiating off him, an almost palpable force that left her yearning for more.

Thorne watched with half-lidded eyes, smoky with desire. His hand captured Breya’s, guiding it further down. His body shook lightly under her touch as she brushed against his hardness, a low growl rumbling in his throat. The sound sent a pulse of anticipation through her.

She moved down and nuzzled against his belly, pressing a hot kiss against the smooth skin. A gasp left his lips as she took his member in her hand. It was hot and hard, pulsing with need.

Slowly, teasingly, she ran her fingers up and down its length, exploring every ridge and vein. Thorne's breath hitched when she reached its tip, running her thumb over the sensitive spot there.

She wrapped her fingers around him and felt him stiffen at the touch. Thorne groaned lowly, an animalistic sound that echoed off the stone walls. She began moving her hand up and down in rhythm, slow and steady, then fast and erratic as the tension wound tighter.

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