Page 102 of Dark Fate

I wrinkle my nose. "If it means that stone and saving your fine ass, I'll suffer anything."

Rhyland chuckles, that sexy laugh making my knees weak.

Focus, Dani.

Faderyn’s posture radiates resolve. "I'll spare no effort to alleviate this odyssey's burdens."

Luciancocks a brow, lips curving into a wry smirk. "Damn, Tinkerbell’s getting heroic. Just sprinkle some pixie dust when shit hits."

Axilya’s eyes sparkle with sass. "Worry not,Lucian. Faderyn's dust could teach you a lesson or two."

Luciansmirks, unfazed. "Sweet burn,Ax. But let's hope Faderyn’s dust packs a punch. My charm can’t do all the work."

Erikremains silent, arms crossed.Mr. Stoicisn’t for conversation, but I know he has our back if things get dicey.

Rhyland’s voice booms, echoing with command. "It’s settled then. We leave at first light."

My big, bad alpha is in battle mode, sights set on victory. And me? I'll be right by his side, ready to face any nightmare. It’s us against the world.

Danica

46

Cracking my eyes open, soft hues of dawn creep through my curtains, painting the room in a gentle, rosy glow. But it's the sight of Rhyland, sprawled across the pillows like a Viking god, that truly steals my breath. I can't resist running my fingers through his jet-black hair, marveling at the silky strands that slip through my fingers like water—hell, who could blame me?

His eyelids flutter open, and that voice, low and raspy with sleep, wraps around me like a warm embrace. "Good morning, Angel." And just like that, I'm melting, my insides turning to goo at the sound of his voice, at the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles.

He stretches, muscles rolling under his golden skin—the kind of display that's nothing short of criminally divine. I drink in the sight of him, my eyes roaming over every inch of his godlike physique, committing every detail to memory.

Suddenly, he's on me, swift as a predator, his arms tight around my waist as he pulls me against his body. I let out a squeal of surprise that quickly turns into a laugh, my heart racing with excitement and anticipation.

"Seems like you're itching for another round of 'hands-on' with yours truly," I quip, my chuckles vibrating into his torso as I snuggle closer, relishing the feel of his solid body against mine. "Good morning to you, too, ya big lug."

His chuckle resonates against my cheek, a low, enthralling vibration that sends shivers down my spine. "Angel, it's not so much an itch as a certainty—a Viking pledges to conquer what's his," he murmurs, his blue eyes glinting with playful light and the unmistakable flare of ancient possessiveness. "And I take pleasure in my victories... especially when they involve you."

Giddy at his words, the promise and threat they hold, my body responds to his nearness with a flush of heat. But before I can lose myself in the intoxicating pull of his presence, Alina's persistent tapping at the door brings reality crashing back.

"Duty calls," I murmur into the nest of Rhyland's neck, smiling against his skin, treasuring our moment even as it slips away.

He responds the only way he can—turning a simple farewell into a kiss that scorches everything from my mind. His lips claim mine with a fierce intensity, leaving me breathless and weak in the knees. The world narrows down to the press of his body against mine, the slide of his tongue, and the overwhelming power of his presence.

Alina's insistence becomes distant drumming as my senses are saturated with Rhyland—his taste, feel, scent, and the overwhelming power of his presence. For a moment, I forget about everything else—about the Sun Court and the trials that lie ahead, about the destiny that hangs heavy on my shoulders.

For a moment, there is only this—only the two of us, lost in each other, wrapped up in a cocoon of passion and desire and something deeper that feels like forever.

Yet duty is indeed relentless, and despite the magnetic chaos of his kiss, we can’t ignore it indefinitely. When he finally breaks away, the words "Not until I've had my kiss first" linger in the air like a challenge he's just conquered, his possessiveness wrapped in a smirk that knows no equal.

With a mischievous glint and a sigh for the reprieve that will have to wait, I slide out of Rhyland’s grasp and sweep toward the door.

It swings open to reveal Alina cradling a surprise that practically whispers sinful luxury. "Good morning, My Lady. I have something for you," Alina announces, her voice smooth as silk and sharp as polished steel, holding the sartorial equivalent of a decadent secret.

Rhyland sweeps by me with that commanding air he always carries like a cloak, his hand connecting with my ass in a casual yet possessive squeeze. "I'll be right down the hall. Gonna get dressed," he declares firmly, leaving an unspoken promise that he's never too far away.

As Alina reveals the contents, the leather unfurls like a flag of some chic warrior tribe. My gaze takes it all in—a sumptuous, buttery brown leather that looks like it would mold to my body with a tailor's devotion. This is not just any outfit but a holy grail of badassery, boasting a second-skin fit that promises to accentuate every asset without crossing into the territory of R-rated fantasy clichés.

"Damn," I breathe out, a smirk playing on my lips. "Alina, these are—"

"Perfect? I know." Her smile holds a hint of pride as she hands them over. "They're designed for mobility and... distraction."

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