Page 104 of Dark Fate

And admire I do asRhylandturns to adjust the horse's reins—my eyes lingering on that part of his anatomy for a beat too long, my cheeks flushing with appreciation.

"Ready to mount up?" he asks after a moment, his voice low and rough. His eyes glint with a knowing look that says he knows where my thoughts have wandered.

"Yes," I manage to say, my voice only slightly breathless as I tear my gaze away from his leather-clad posterior and square my shoulders, preparing myself for the ascent.

Rhylandgently lifts me onto Storm's back. His hand lingers on my inner thigh before he swings himself up behind me with a grace that belies his size.

Mounted in front ofRhyland, the closeness is downright sinful, his secure arms bracketing me, our bodies aligning with the kind of precision that speaks of many nights entwined.

"There, safe and sound, exactly where you belong—sitting on my cock."

I laugh. "Well, I suppose that's one way to make sure I’m not going anywhere," I fire back, eyes sparkling with mischief.

A low, satisfied growl vibrates fromRhylandas he squeezes me tight. "Oh,Angel, I’ve got plenty of ways to keep you right where I want you," he says, his voice thick with innuendo. "But a hands-on approach always works best with a fiery little thing like you."

Round two of this horseback riding journey withRhylandat my back. My hands rest on my thighs in a position of relaxed readiness—a posture befitting the oddball heroine I've become.

Last night, I handed out my signature O-neg cocktail toErikandLucian, ensuring they were fortified—the vampire’s equivalent to a knight’s shining armor. As forRhyland, I enjoyed his sips directly from the source. I also enjoyed my own personal ‘O’ directly from his source.

Mr. Stoicgives us a nod, his silver eyes betraying a flicker of amusement.

Lucian, with all the charm of nightclub royalty and sass to match, flashes a grin that says he’s probably cooked up a snarky remark he’ll share later.

Faderyn, looking like he stepped out of a dream to join us, andAxilya, with a commanding presence that could make a grown man rethink his life choices—all bathed in the burgeoning light of dawn.

The first proper rays of sunlight embrace us, a golden draping worthy of any legendary tableau. And right at the heart of it, there’s me—straddling Storm withRhyland’s heat at my back—feeling like a queen about to lead her quirky, powerful retinue into the pages of adventure.

Danica

47

The ride's rhythm has been my constant companion, Storm's hooves laying down a beat that vibrates through my very core. We become a symphony of motion, a blend of muscle, sinew, and leather-wrapped in relentless purpose. Hours bleed together in a blur of landscapes and the ever-present thrum beneath us.

But then—a shudder ripples across my skin as we hit a glitch in the world, like walking face-first through an unexpected cobweb. It's that moment of ick amplified by a thousand, yet there's no spider, just the eerie caress of magic.

"Did anyone else feel that?" I glance back at Rhyland with raised brows.

"We've just breached the protective runes," Faderyn calls out from horseback, a few paces to our left. "We are no longer covered under their protection." His emerald eyes reflect the sudden alertness that overtakes us all.

The forest around us seems to awaken. Ancient trees stretch their limbs toward the sky, bathed in sunlight filtering through leaves of emerald and gold. It's as if we've entered a realm where nature itself has conjured enchantments.

As the strange sensations ebb, a new one blossoms—the press of Rhyland against my back, his arms forming a bastion of strength around me. He leans in, his voice a gritty thunder against my ear. "How are you holding up, Angel?"

Despite our audience, I let myself savor the closeness for a heartbeat longer than propriety dictates. There's a steadiness in his embrace that flows into me, a silent bolstering.

"If you keep holding me like this, I'll be more than fine," I quip back softly, just for him, angling myself into the solidity of his frame.

But I know what he's asking—how I'm coping with the magical unknown we've stumbled into—so I give a little nod of assurance. "I'm good," I confirm, volume back to normal. "But if this enchanted forest tries any funny business, I'm letting you handle it. You can be my knight in leather armor." It's a gentle tease, my way of saying I feel safe under his protection, even as we venture deeper into a realm ruled by ancient forces.

Rhyland chuckles, the sound vibrating through me. "And deprive the world of seeing you kick ass in enchanted forests? Never." His grip tightens slightly, adding weight to his words. "Besides," he adds, his breath warm on my neck, "you shine brightest when you show me up. How could I take that away from you, kära?"

Curiosity colors my voice as I tilt my head slightly. "And what's 'kära'? You've never called me that before."

He pauses a flicker of mischief in his eyes. "It's a term of endearment from my old world, meaning beloved or dear one." His words drip with a baritone richness, a hint of an ancient Norse accent wrapping around the word like a caress. "But for you, it could also mean 'feisty little temptress who has a Viking under her spell,'" he adds with a playful growl, his lips close enough to tease the shell of my ear.

His arms constrict gently, reinforcing the word's weight with his unyielding presence. His tone is playful and dominating, a reminder that he's a force to be reckoned with—a protector from times when the word meant a fierce guardian of heart and body. "Get used to it, kära, because I have a feeling there are many more ancient endearments I've yet to call you."

His words, steeped in affection and a trace of that owning, dominating charm, are enough to heat my cheeks and raise the ante in our playful exchange. If this were a sparring match, Rhyland's verbal volley would have the crowd roaring.

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